The millions of tiny mammals that skitter among the dead grasses and under leaf litter welcome the snow for two reasons; first, it insulates them from severe cold and it also affords them protection from the many predators that rely on mice, voles and shrews to carry them through the winter.
Our treks through November continue with a walk through the surrounding bush or snow that was dumped by a mid-month storm in 1996 giving us 40 cm. (16 in.) over a period of 36 hours. The temperature ranged between -.3C and –4.1C. contributing to a very heavy wet snowfall.
It is the second week in November and as we review the journals for past Novembers we realize that this month, like most, is prone to wide variations in climate. However, there are some constants; one being the shortening of the photoperiod (hours of daylight) and the dropping of the mean daily temperature viewed best from a graph read at the end of the month when the trend is readily noticeable.
Six hours and thirty-three minutes. That represents how much less sunlight we experience on October 31 compared with the date that summer officially began. That was when life was green and smiled on us like a benevolent nursemaid. Now she doesnÂ’t care, and has informed us in no uncertain terms by her behaviour that she soon will be leaving, deserting us to winter. If we arenÂ’t prepared then it's too bad; she's leaving anyway.
It was in late September that we first noticed them. A forest of over 120 mushrooms (or were they toadstools?) literally erupted from the ground between our place and neighbour John's. They were beautiful, maturing from bright yellow bulbs to flat topped saucers held aloft by a sturdy stalk. Some measured as much as 18 cm (7.25) inches across. We had encountered these before but never in these numbers. Another forty of them sprouted beneath the conifers lining our driveway. On walks through the bush we encountered them. What was this invasion?
