Wednesday, February 4, 2015
Adventures on a post-blizzard deck
So we've been walloped twice in less than a week with mass quantities of snow -- first, over two feet's worth in the blizzard last week, then another 17 inches on Monday. My deck is buried in a drift that peaks over four feet. That bit of black bar is the top of a metal deck chair. And those furrows along the top of the snow... whatever could they be? From the mound on the deck the tunneling proceeds down the snow slope in the gap between the railing and the privacy fence: Down, down, all the way to the pit where my digging and the hot air blast from the dryer and water heater have excavated a pit in the snow: And those shots were how it looked yesterday. Today, whatever has been tracking and tunneling through the snow had expanded its realm; yesterday's tunnels have been enlarged and improved upon. See that dark triangle to the right of the post? Let's take a closer look. Yup, the tunnel runs right along the deck planter, no doubt emerging at the outer rail of the deck. Yes, that's the planter that's sitting on the top rail of the deck. That's how deep the snow drifted -- all 17 inches on top of the two-plus feet from the blizzard. Whatever's been digging through there has constructed an impressive highway. There are lots of squirrels around here; my thinking during the day has been those rascals were/are responsible for the byway-building. But wait! I'll be darned! May not have been squirrels making those tunnels in the snow after all! Just now, I was sitting in the living room and saw first Schooner, then Peanut hurry to the slider to the deck and stare out, entranced. I got up and came to see what they found so fascinating. There, sitting in the snow, its wee nose right up against the glass, was.... A rabbit! A little brown wild rabbit, looking in at the cats looking at it, and not in the least dismayed into flight at my appearance. It twitched its nose a couple of times, then calmly turned and hopped in a loop back to the top of the snow mound and paused. I rushed to the dining room table -- no camera. I'd put it back in the car. When I came back to the living room the bunny was gone, though the cats still sat staring out into the snowy darkness. And so ends another adventure in the exurban wilderness.... For now. Who knows what other surprises are lurking out there?