I noticed that people had broken a path through the snow at a local forest that I visit often, so I decided to follow it one cold and cloudy day. The snow was well packed and easy to walk on and squeaked under my boots. For those of you who have never experienced real cold; when it’s really cold the snow squeaks when it’s walked on, and it does that so nature nuts know that it’s too cold to be out walking on it. At least, that’s my theory.
The path was also only 1 person wide and if you stepped off it into the soft snow at the sides you found yourself up to your knees in it. I suspected that would be the case so I thought ahead for a change and wore my knee high gaiters. I seem to be having some hip trouble so snowshoes aren’t a good idea right now.
With the gaiters on I was able to plow through the snow without getting soaked below the knees and boots full of snow, so I could get a look at things like this green shield lichen (Flavoparmelia caperata.) It’s not hard to see how it came by its common name; it looks just like a shield. Its dryness reminded me that winter can be as dry as a desert, in spite of all the snow.
One of the best things about walking through the woods in winter is seeing those things which we ordinarily wouldn’t see or which wouldn’t register, like moss on a tree trunk. At other times of the year there is so much to see that most of us would pass a small bit of moss by without a second glance.
But if we did we’d probably be missing something beautiful and fascinating, like this stalked feather moss (Brachythecium rutabulum.) Though it doesn’t seem to be moving we know that it is because we can read its movements and easily see how it has crawled up and over the bark plates looking for that perfect spot where it will get all the sunshine, water and nutrients that it needs. It seems to pulse with energy and you can sense how full of life it is. Its beautiful green color offers a welcome contrast to the brown, black and white winter landscape.
You don’t always have to see something on the bark of a tree though, because often the bark itself is every bit as interesting and beautiful as anything that might grow on it. As I took off my glove and ran my hand over the beautiful, deeply furrowed bark of this old northern red oak I imagined that I knew how Adam must have felt when he first laid eyes on the garden. Surely the love of creation must have welled up inside of him like a spring bubbling up from the earth.
The woods might seem hushed and quiet but if you stop and listen you’ll find that spring is in the air. When I stopped squeaking the snow I heard a bird singing a beautiful song just above me in the treetops. I couldn’t see it so I don’t know which bird it was but it wasn’t one of the common, often heard songs. In fact I can’t remember ever hearing it before, but I’d love to hear it again.
The trees will tell you which way the wind blew during the last storm.
There are many northern red oaks (Quercus rubra) in these woods and I stopped to admire the buds of another one. We have a lot of white oak (Quercus albra) as well but their buds aren’t as sharply pointed as these. There was no sign of these swelling just yet.
Sugar maple buds look very similar to red oak buds because of the overlapping bud scales but an easy way to tell the two apart is by their branching habits. Oaks like the one in the photo have alternate branching and maples have opposite branching. If you’d like to be able to identify trees in winter studying their branch structure and winter buds is a great place to start.
This bud had me scratching my head for quite a while but the taste test finally told me that it was a black birch (Betula lenta.) Black birch looks so much like cherry that another common name for it is cherry birch, but this bud didn’t look anything like a cherry bud. Actually, it looks a lot like a buckthorn bud but that’s a shrub, not a tree. Chewing a twig revealed a taste of wintergreen and told me immediately what it was. Black birch often fools me because so many were harvested to make oil of wintergreen that I rarely see them unless I go to spots where I know they grow. Now I know another spot.
Eastern hemlock branches aren’t hard to identify; I’ve raked up millions of them. Hemlocks, much like weeping willows, are a “self-pruning” tree and can be quite messy. The snow in this photo seems to have a strange, luminous quality that I don’t remember seeing in person.
The yellow inner bark will tell you that you’re seeing a barberry….
But in the winter it’s the thorns that will tell you which one. European barberry (Berberis vulgaris) and American barberry (Berberis canadensis) both have clusters of 3 or more thorns but since American barberry doesn’t grow in New England it comes down to European or Japanese, and only the very invasive Japanese barberry (Berberis thunbergii) has single thorns.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen it snow when the sun was shining as much as I have this year. It’s as if the atmosphere is so full of snow that it can’t even wait for the sun to stop shining before it drops more of it, and what looks like spots and smudges on this photo are just that-more of it.
By walking in a snowy forest you can really forget about this world, and every time you forget about this world you leave this world, and every time you leave this world you gain a very special wisdom that does not exist in this world. ~Mehmet Murat ildan
Thanks for stopping in.
I love the idea of hiking through the snow but I suspect the reality would not live up to the expectation. You had some great finds there though and I’m impressed with your ability to tell the trees apart at this time of year.
Thanks! It takes books and a lot of practice to be able to identify trees in winter.
Winter hiking isn’t bad as long as someone else breaks the trail. Breaking a trail through 2 or 3 feet of fresh snow can wear you out in a hurry.
Excellent post, Allen…I love your snow travels up there…they provoke such good memories of my own winters in the mountains…with that squeaking snow and dropping off of the packed trail into knee-deep snow. 🙂
Thanks Scott. This has been a winter to remember! I hope you get to have a little taste of it before everything melts out your way.
Most welcome, Allen…and maybe I’ll get up north, yet……
The squeak of snow has always fascinated me. I like your theory!!
Thanks Martha. I just Googled this question and found out that it really is the cold that makes snow squeak, but not for the reasons I thought. You cane read about it here: http://whyfiles.org/2010/why-does-snow-squeak-when-you-walk-on-it/
you have just taken me, with words and images, on my very favorite kind of walk, focusing on those barely perceptible treasures that bring joy. thank you.
You’re welcome, and thank you. I’m glad that you enjoyed it.
A packed trail to walk on is such a treat in this deep snow!
I agree. I was very happy to see that the snowshoers had been there before me!
I know about the squeeky snow. In my mind it goes together with the dryness of the air on a bitterly cold day.
Maybe that’s what causes it! I don’t really know, but we certainly have had plenty of bitter cold here this year.
Black birch is always reminiscent of root beer to me, but now I shall be alert to wintergreen aspects as well.
I think that a lot of the oil of wintergreen that the trees were cut for probably ended up in birch and root beer. I’ve never seen a tree more than just a few years old around here.
I enjoy seeing your snowy woods! I’ve seen very little of that here so far and I really miss it. Just a few flakes in the air today and a cold wind that felt wonderfully refreshing. My snowshoes are wondering why they are still in the closet.
What strange weather! I hope next winter the jet stream gets back to normal. We almost always see cold and snow but this year has been a real chart topper. We got another 7-8 inches last night, and that is now a “small storm.”
Just thinking about an operation will usually make a joint feel better but it probably won’t last from my experience.
I wondered about that. I imagine before you’re done the pain will drive you to the table.
I love going on hikes with you Allen, as you point out the most interesting and beautiful things. I have walked on squeaky snow – the last time was the winter before last when we had a prolonged period of snow and below freezing temperatures. The beautiful green moss and the deeply furrowed bark were a real pleasure to behold but my favourite was your description of the feeling Adam must have felt when he entered the garden. The way you feel undoubtedly, as you see these wonderful things around you – it made my heart leap for joy too.
Thank you Clare. There is so much to see out there, finding it is never a chore.
I’m sorry to hear that you get cold enough for snow to squeak! I thought your weather was far more mild than that.
I’m glad that you liked the moss and the bark. Yes, I do often feel that way when I see certain things; a lot of gratitude for being able to see them and a lot of love for creation, because sometimes it all seems beautiful enough to be almost overwhelming. Intense joy is a good way to describe it!
I also meant to say that it’s always a pleasure to have you come along!
Thank-you Allen. The weather here is usually milder than yours and our snow is usually the wet kind which doesn’t squeak, but the winter of 2012/13 was very cold and long.
The weather seems to be topsy-turvy everywhere!
Your theory on why snow squeaks is as good as any I’ve heard, and unlike most years, this nature nut has been heeding the advice from the snow. 🙂
Sorry that you’re having hip trouble, as snowshoes are about the only way to get around easily with this much snow on the ground.
Every time that I have tried chewing on a plant that I didn’t know, the taste was awful! I’ll stick to sassafras for now. 😉
I do listen to what the snow is telling me occasionally. It was so windy and cold out there yesterday I couldn’t take it, so I came home. A little wind makes a big difference!
I don’t know what’s going on with the hip but I did talk to a sister who had hers replaced and she said mine sounded like hers felt before she had it done. But then all of the sudden it has started feeling much better. I wandered around my back yard on snowshoes one day and it didn’t take long to figure out that using them wouldn’t be too smart right now. Not only that but the cold has kept the snow so powdery that you sink in a foot even with snowshoes on.
I probably should have said something about chewing on any old plant, but I think most people know better. At least I hope so! I was down to cherry or black birch and I knew neither one could hurt you. At least, as long as you don’t eat a bushel of them. Black birch contains methyl salicylate, which is similar to aspirin and apparently has the same pain killing abilities.
Reblogged this on Dawn of Divine Rays and commented:
Thank you, Allen. Stay in and keep warm .. nothing is what it seems sometimes .. and you’ll never know what’s underneath the snow unless you’re very familiar with the path/s and that there aren’t any big holes below it. Wishing you a beautiful weekend. Namaste
You’re welcome Agnes, and thank you for the re-blog. You’re right about holes underneath the snow, usually caused by brooks and streams that you can’t see, but I’ve been walking these woods since I was a boy so I know the trails well. The only way to get hurt there would be to have a tree fall on you but thankfully that is as rare as being struck by lightning. I hope you have a great weekend too!
Thank you for taking us on this lovely hike. I haven’t been in the woods for several weeks because of the NH weather, and I miss it. Going to get some gaiters! Exquisite quote. 🙂
You’re welcome Paula, and thank you. I know what you mean about getting into the woods right now-it’s tough going! I usually wait for someone else to break a trail or I follow snowmobiles down the rail trails.
Buying gaiters was one of the smartest things I ever did for winter hiking. They keep your pants nice and dry and keep your boots from filling with snow!
I love knowing the opposite/alternate branching id trick. Thank you.
You’re welcome Judy. Most trees can be identified by using branches, bark and buds in the winter.
Walking in the woods when there is a lot of snow on the ground is quite different. It isn’t often I get to do this, so it is especially enjoyable. (If you are well kitted out.) Having your moustache ice up is a strangely pleasing experience. But then again is a nice cup of hot tea when you get back inside. 🙂
I don’t have a moustache or drink tea so I’ll have to take your word on those aspects of winter walking, but I agree that walking through the woods in winter is a completely different experience than in the summer. An added benefit is, if it’s cold enough you have the whole forest to yourself!
I too love to walk in solitude, although there are a few folk whose company enhances rather than diminishing the enjoyment.
I agree!
I loved that bark that you particularly pointed out, such beautiful patterns. Sorry about your hip, I walk using two replacements which get me around very nicely.
Thank you Susan.
Bark can be really beautiful but it’s another one of those things that we seem to pass by.
I’m a little confused about the hip. It seems to have started feeling better, all of the sudden. I suppose I should talk to a doctor.
Yes you should.