Snow Monkey

It snowed on Monday . . . again! The official weather almanac indicates it was a total of 8 inches. So far this winter season it has piled up a total of about 40 inches. That explains all the mountains of snow everywhere! It was a deceptively clear crisp day. A lovely day to go hawking. The hawk was even very much at weight. I didn't have to be anywhere until work time, which on this particular day was an early 2:30 PM. I should have taken her out. I decided to pass today.

Despite the deceptively calm skies, it was a frigid -5 degrees. The roads were not particularly safe to travel either. The decision was sealed when the emergency broadcast system announced over the NPR morning programs a warning by the La Crosse Police Department confirming that motorist should be aware of what I already knew existed. OK, like I needed a reinforcement. I realize my days of flying with Nina are numbered, even though there are still a couple months yet to practice falconry. However, I don't have to risk my life either, or my car for that matter . . . especially when there is fresh bunny in the fridge, and the likelihood of me finding anything out to hunt today was relatively slim. I tied her out and just fed her this morning.

So, remove an activity in my morning that frequently can take up about 2 to 3 hours, sometimes more. What to do with myself? As I passed by to tie out the bird I could smell the distinct hot/moist/chemical smell of the hot-tub. Hmmmmmm . . . sounds like a plan! I decided to luxuriate in its soothingly hot waters for a little while. So I flipped the top over, and went and changed into my bathing suit. This being the daytime, I couldn't dunk myself in the fashion that my house-mate and I normally do in the dark of night. Well . . . I could have . . . but not going to!

There is the initial shock of the cold as you leave the house with only sandals and a housecoat. The idea here is to get into the water as quickly as possible. You then sink down until just your head is above water . . . and soak up the heat. Eventually you'll collect enough heat that remaining is uncomfortable, and you then make the quick dash inside, to shower, and dry off, and put other clothes on.

As I collected the warmth, the steam rose from the water surface to moisten my hair, which was pulled back, and subsequently frosted in the sub-zero air temperature. I watched the snow dusted pines in the back yard slowly begin to shake off the gathered flakes upon their boughs. Nina finished her meal, her bells having jingled with each tug, and jumped up onto her perch to feak her beak. I offered her some water this morning, and hoped she might take a drink before it froze up, to form yet another flat round ice cube to join all the others accumulating outside her mews. If the cold keeps up I'll be able to make a little igloo before spring. Anubis snuffed around the yard, digging his nose particularly around Nina's mews, as I know there is a bunny living under there. He had snow all over his face.

I closed my eyes, and allowed my ears to take in the surrounding environment. For awhile, the steady low growl of a nearby snow thrower could be heard, as someone cleared out their driveway, adding to the mounds that are quickly becoming hazards at the end of the yards, blocking the view of oncoming traffic while we pull out to drive somewhere. That task done, the small engine was silenced, and I could then hear the muted tinkle of windchimes from the neighbor's yards. Their melancholy tones are lost in the chilly air. A single brave city squirrel passed along the squirrel highway, a highwire at the back of the property. Nina ignored it as she has come to ignore all who pass along this path. On this day the tree rat did not come down to tease her as they have been seen to do before. Somehow, they know she is confined and restrained, and is rendered impotent in a way that removes her as a threat. My house-mate and I wish we could change their opinion on the matter. Eventually, the ever regular low thrum and rumble of a train goes by, about every 15 minutes, or so it seems. I'm actually now getting used to it so don't always notice. About this time I decided I'd better get a quick picture of the trees before the snow had all blown off, so exited quickly to go get my camera, and then return to the water as soon as possible. Upon my return, the water on the deck where I stepped out and into my sandals quickly freezes.

It's very cold!

I couldn't help thinking I was just like those Japanese Macaque who escape into the warm volcanic springs to escape the cold of winter. I have always wondered how they withstand getting out of the water at the end of the day to dry off their fur before the cold of night comes. I have a hot shower I can go to, and dry clothes afterwards.