March is the best month of the winter. Have
no doubts about March being fully a winter month - despite the
notation on the calendar that spring begins today. Just look
out your window. What are the chances you are going to see
flowers blooming? Not here. Not in March.
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MATHER |
March at this latitude is a winter month -
and the best one of the year.
I love to ski in March. I love to get out
before the sun rises over the trees. Everything is asparkle
with frost. Diamonds of ice cover every branch and twig, every
tall blade of grass that rises about the snow pack. Once the
sun touches them, the frost disappears.
The warm days of March followed by cold
nights bring frost every morning. Frost even falls into the
tracks of the ski trail, making for perfect grip and glide.
This is the best skiing of the year.
Up, up the hill I climb, and then schuss down
the other side, skimming along the trail through the black
spruce lowlands, then over a little rise and down to a tiny
stream.
Like as not there will be otter tracks, long
lines of slides where she's been having fun in the snow
too.
The trail leads up again, through a grove of
red pine, then along into the poplar and birch. Red squirrels
chatter at me from the pines. The foxes have been
everywhere.
The trail continues upward, under the
protection of white pines and old oaks.
Around and down, over and through the forest
I ski. After the trail curves around to the south again, I
approach the ponds where the beaver lives.
There I move more slowly, trying to be quiet.
I hope to catch a glimpse of the beaver again, as she sneaks
out from below the ice to enjoy the rising
warmth of this March day. But not today.
Perhaps I'm too early. Or perhaps she prefers the warmer
temperatures of the afternoon.
I skim along half a kilometre of flats, with
the perfect kick and glide that March mornings often bring.
Just over the small rise to the second pond is an ancient
fallen tree that I have made a habit of stopping at to sit and
rest, to enjoy the morning sun. Otter tracks slide along here
too. At the edge of the forest are mink tracks, and following
my ski trail along here I found fresh wolf tracks yesterday
morning.
A series of warm days and cold nights that
are typical of March have made a firm crust on the snow. Most
creatures of the forest walk easily on top. March is the best
month of winter for them too. Tracks are everywhere; mice and
voles, mink, fox and marten, even the wingtips of the owl,
where he dropped down to pick up an unsuspecting mouse.
The air is still. Quiet saturates all. The
sun beams down upon the brilliant perfection of the day. In the
forest across the pond, I hear the chatter of the blue jays
softly punctuating the morning silence.
Viki Mather lives by a lake near Sudbury.
