The ice has come, the ice has gone, the ice is here again. It will be here for six more weeks if we can trust that Ground Hog. I am skeptical of any creature also known as a whistlepig, though, and for whom the leading topics in an internet search include 1.) How to repel, 2.) How to trap, and 3.) Facts about groundhogs (provided by Havahart).
If that old whistlepig is right, six more weeks of winter it is. That is hardly enough, but I’ll take it. We did have a good ice day to set bait traps, but then the ice melted, and the tell-tale twig markers sank. I bought new ice skates but only used them once. What snow we have barely covers the bristly grass, not so great for sledding. It’s been that kind of winter.
There is still plenty to do, a bit of wildlife tracking, star gazing, and of course the almost every night bonfire. But something is missing. I have never suffered from cabin fever, but snowless winters can make me a bit stir-crazy. One year we tied antlers to the long legged sign wrapped in a brown tarp at the local campground. Someone liked the effort and added a big red Rudolph nose. Pretty pathetic I suppose, but that’s how we entertain ourselves here in the creek. That and dodging some rather spectacular potholes.
The ice that two years ago was swallowing our ice shack on Jordon Pond can barely support the weight of an auger. There are other ponds of course, but as we drive home with our traps in the back our tires barely make it out of a huge icy hole in the road. Ice. Hole. Maybe?
We did not get any fish, and we did not find China, but hopefully we amused a few passersby.