Relax, it's just a blizzard.

Jack's inconvenient resting place at the base of my office chair.

Eagle River beach on Lake Superior...frozen solid as far as the eye can see.

Winter on the Keweenaw Peninsula has a way of focusing the mind. It's pretty damned cold and there are currently over 256 inches of snow on the ground and a blizzard is howling outside. If your front and back doors happen to open outward (as mine do) you've spent a portion of the past 24 hours just making sure you can get out of the house if the need arises.

But if you are Jack, you take it all in stride. 30-mile-an-hour sustained winds, all the better to catch those exotic scents from the woods outside of town. Mountains of snow where the back yard used to be, all the better to watch the passing snow plows and check up on the neighbor's black lab two blocks away.

And when the blizzard does finally pass, your favorite beach—now an expanse of snow and frozen waves—will be ready for another visit. And the deer herd wintering by the lake is soooo interesting it more than makes up for the cold.

Deer at Eagle River, MI.

Snow In May

Today I spotted my first hummingbird at the feeder...and it is snowing. Spring in the U.P. (Upper Peninsula of Michigan). Here it is May and while the ground is clear (except for a few stubborn icebergs in the shadier spots) there are snowflakes in the air. So I'm going to take a moment to look back and remember what REAL snow was like this past winter. Hopefully, I can regain my weather perspective and find the courage to put on my gloves and jacket and go walk the poor dog.

Ah yes, I remember, over 65 inches by mid-December. At the top left you can see one of my neighbors scooping the snow in his front yard. Our snow is usually dry and light so instead of the strenuous shoveling I remember from the East Coast most people use this clever snowplow-type of devise to push the snow away. This photo was taken in December. If you look closely you can see that the 4-foot fence in the background is almost covered. (Alright, I am beginning to feel a little better. Afterall, the crocus are blooming now.)

And at the top right is a photo of our snow-covered hedge with Jack perched on top. The hedge is roughly 6-feet-tall and by the time this photo was taken in January it was completely covered with snow. Once the snow becomes compacted enough Jack just climbs right up on top and has a birds-eye view of the neighborhood. (We knew winter was coming to a close when he began falling through the hedge.)

Yes, I am definitely feeling better. As I write this the snow flurry has stopped and I can see the finches, sparrows, grosbeaks, and hummingbirds who now perch on that same now snowless hedge. Jack might get his walk afterall.

When It's So Cold Your Paws Freeze

My family and I were not dog owners. We had one quiet house cat before we adopted Jack-o-lantern (Jack for short) from our wonderful local Humane Society. We also had always lived in urban or close-in suburban areas where our actual relationship to nature was primitive at best: A small patio or deck, an occasional flower box or bird feeder, now and then an invasion by ants or moths. Nothing too challenging.

Now we are adjusting to life-with-dog in a climate where for several months of the year the poor thing's paws can actually freeze to the front walk. Jack loves the snow and one morning I forgot and left him on his chain for a few minutes longer than usual. When I opened the front door he was looking at me, puzzled. It took me a minute to realize he was not running up to knock me over because he was having trouble lifting his paws off the ground. He was fine in a minute, but it doesn't seem to have taught him a thing about ice and snow and paws. I would buy him boots, but after seeing how many of my shoes and mittens he has torn through in one season, I doubt it would do any good.