Samhain Waxing Moon of the Winter Solstice
The orchard has at least two feet of snow. The currant bushes have snow near the top of their branches. The blueberry beds have almost disappeared. The garlic lies now beneath a couple of feet of snow cover in the vegetable garden, as do the strawberries and the asparagus. The bees have huddled up in their balls, all three colonies, rubbing against each other, creating warmth, keeping the colony at 93 degrees, maintaining body heat for the cold blooded individuals, the whole acting as a warm-blooded animal, using their mutual metabolisms to fend off the cold. There are, too, all the bulbs, the ones planted this fall and those planted in years past, resting now, waiting for the signals, still months away, that will send them seeking sun and warmth.
Out the window shown in the pictures below I often see chickadees and sparrows scurrying from one warren of shrubs to another. A rabbit or two come by at some point in the winter, as the chipmunks did earlier in the fall. A squirrel dug a burrow in the snow near the end of November, coming and going several times. I have not heard the great gray the last two nights, perhaps she’s out hunting in other places.
This is a Minnesota winter, the kind most of us here know well. I’m glad to see it.
