Snow Geese

I've seen large flocks of Snow geese, or Chen caerulescens three or for times in the last three years. I see them grazing in winter, often with snow on the ground, in fields off of the I5 in the Puget Sound area. They migrate here from Siberia, and Wrangel Island, and leave in the spring. These flocks of Snow geese really are large flocks, too, with well over 100 birds. Individual birds appear huge, almost heron sized, and are easily distinguished from Canadian geese because they are mostly white, quite large, and depending on the season and the age of the bird, they have distinctive black edges to their wings.

When a large flock takes to the air it's stunning; so many wings in formation, as the entire flock rises in a sequential wave.

The Seattle Post Intelligencer ran a piece this week about snow geese wintering on Fir Island, in Washington's Skagit Valley. The article includes a link to an online photo galley by photographer Alan Bernard; you can see his photos here.

It's Snowing in Seattle

Here in Western Washington slightly to the North of Seattle it's been snowing, off and on, since the 12th, though today was the day we got the most snow.

Yesterday we shoveled the walk in front of our house and the sidewalk for the second time. The day before a casual passerby pointed out that it was still snowing and asked "Isn't that a little premature?" My partner pointed out that it would make it a lot more likely that we'd get our mail, and that fire trucks and ambulances could get where they needed to be.

Now, I'm from N.H. My partner is from Montana. We know what real snow is. They're really not used to snow here, I mean really not used to it. I think we got four inches today. It was pretty, but not what I'd call overwhelming.

Or it wasn't until I saw people in small cars going way too fast and sashshaying all over.

We shoveled again yesterday. Now, I can see people from the window stopping and marveling at the sidewalk and walk-way. (I really want to tell them it was snow angels, and that the silhouettes on the lawn across the way are the proof). Our mail delivery person was effusive and looked at me and said "You guys aren't from around here, are you."

My partner, sharing Pacific Northwest wisdom, explained that liberals shovel their own walks, conservatives hire someone who's a recent emigrant and libertarians just use snowshoes to get around.

These two videos kinda explain the way Seattle folk view snow:

The same day I took the picture above, they were selling locally grown tulips and daffodils in the grocery store:

Hummingbirds in Washington State

The other day, while admiring a Steller's Jay who was giving us merry hell for staring at his beautiful plumage from the outer branches of a rather tall Douglas fir, I noticed a hummingbird zipping around the fir tree, from one side to another. I suspect the hummer was actually interested in the nearby blooming Witch hazel.

But I am now absolutely determined to set up a Hummingbird feeder. If you're not familiar with them, these are clear plastic containers that often have red highlights to make them more attractive to hummers. Some are like hanging bottles, others more like flying saucers with feeing areas for several hummers. You fill them with a solution of sugar water (1 part sugar to four parts water; don't mess with this ratio, and don't use honey).

The hummer I saw was much too far away to identify visually, and was uncharacteristically quiet, so I couldn't identify it based on its squawking song. But chances are, it was an Anna's Hummingbird, Calypte anna. Not only have I seen Anna's hummingbirds in Washington before, they're the most common hummer around Puget Sound. People in Whatcom and Skagit do sometimes see the tiny Calliope Hummingbird, mostly during breeding season, as well as the Rufous Hummingbird (a species I've not seen—yet).

We Got Snow!

We really did! Look:

It started out as rain, but slowly turned sleet, then to mixed-rain-with snow, and by about 2:45 it was genuine, actual snow in large wet clumping flakes.

And here's a jeeep with snow, real actual snow:

We went to visit the pasture, and inside the chicken coop, was this cold little Golden Crowned Sparrow.

If the snow continues, as various weather prediction services claim it will, I'll try to get a picture of a Giant Holly Tree with Berries, in the snow. I've located a suitable model already.

Witch Hazel

We went for a short walk today; the sun was partly out, and the mountains looked lovely. We noticed a faint but definitely pleasant odor; something sweet. It was a shrub about five feet or so tall, in full bloom. The blossoms were yellow strands, with slightly darker maroon cup like strands of the calyx in their center. I couldn't think what it might be; it reminded me a little of certain Australian mimosas I'd seen in Southern California. It was a bright, cheery yellow on a somewhat grey day, and I noticed I could see a few others in nearby yards. There's a larger picture here, but this one shows the typical "vase like" form of the shrub; tall, with branches on either side, in fairly even order.

It turns out that the shrub was a witch hazel, or more specifically, Hamamelis x intermedia "Arnold Promise." This particular variety, which thrives in the Pacific Northwest, blooming from January to March, and subsequently bearing golden yellow leaves, was an inadvertent cross discovered at the Arnold Arboretum. In 1928 botanist William Judd collected seeds from one of the arboretum's Hamamelis mollis varieties of witch hazel, and planted them. In quick order, it became clear that the young plants were hybrids of Hamamelis mollis pollinated by a Hamamelis japonica which grew nearby in the arboretum. One of the offspring in particular stood out, with fragrant vivid yellow blossoms. 1944, Alfred Redder named the new hybrid Hamamelis x intermedia, and in a few years, the arboretum began releasing plants to retail nurseries. For the curious, the gory details are here in a 1981 .pdf from the Arnold Aboretum's journal. 

Witch hazel isn't related to witches specifically, alas; it's a fairly common European shrub (and there are, of cours Asian varieties, especially in Japan); it is not cognate with wicce/wicce which gives us "witch." Rather, the witch of witch hazel is related to the Old English verb wican meaning "to bend," cognate with wicker. Infusions of Witch hazel bark and leaves, typically in an isopropyl alcohol solution, are often used to treat cuts, bruises, and minor abrasions since it has some ability to constrict blood vessels.