weather – Page 6 – Roadkill Crossing

How We Celebrated Our Anniversary

The pastoral landscape we enjoyed. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

The weather was similar to the day we married 54 years ago, mostly sunny and warm. So, we decided to celebrate our anniversary by enjoying the scenic outdoors in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley.

We drove the country roads in two Virginia counties, where Old Order Mennonite farms dominate rolling landscapes at the foot of the Allegheny Mountains. Those families have kept the farms intact for the most part. Generations have raised crops and livestock, including poultry, without selling off their prized road frontage for homes or small businesses. They must enjoy the scenery and quiet, too.

Despite the lack of rainfall, succulent green grasses for beef cattle, dairy cows, and plump sheep brimmed beneath tree-dotted pastures. Cottony clouds sailed overhead in the cerulean sky.

We visited a local birding hotspot across from a plain but pristine Old Order Mennonite church, where the men and women sit in benches on opposite sides after filing through separate doorways. Killdeer, Pectoral Sandpipers, and Canada Geese called and preened in the morning’s warmth, while pairs of Tree Swallows divebombed me for being too close to their birdbox.

Pectoral Sandpipers. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

We turned onto a narrow, notoriously bumpy road that led to a mountain reservoir. A stream rushed between the mountains’ steep, forested foothills, marking the boundary between Virginia and West Virginia. Mint-colored leaves had only sprouted, allowing views of rock-filled talus slopes.

At the reservoir, the azure sky commanded the scene. Far below on its shores, fishermen plied the still water that mirrored the blue canopy overhead.

Though in no hurry, we kept driving south to our lunchtime destination. We wound up, down, and around onto primary roads and entered a historic, small southern city where artists and restaurants have replaced millineries, general stores, and saloons. We spied the old railroad station two city blocks away, where Amtrak and excursion trains still stop.

We were delighted to find a restaurant serving fresh seafood and luscious desserts. However, my wife diligently discovered an old-fashioned drive-in a mile away serving the best hot fudge sundaes.

It had been decades since I had to push a button to order food. The speakers looked like those we had at drive-in movie theaters in the 1960s. Our sundaes arrived just as we ordered, with chocolate ice cream.

After the nostalgic pleasures, we headed west again toward the mountains before turning north. We passed ranches with lazy brooks snaking through green pastures occasionally speckled with grazing Black Angus cattle. Experienced farmers kept hilltop trees for cattle to gather on hot, humid Virginia days.

Drivers of the few vehicles that passed us waved the familiar index finger hello. If they know you, they point at you as a sign of recognition. We were fine with being admiring strangers.

Abandoned farmsteads stood on steep hillsides surrounded by trees planted ages ago. The houses were weathered and had broken windows, while many old outbuildings and barns had collapsed.

The long farm lanes that ended at white two-story houses and red bank barns reminded me of the happy, innocent Ohio days I drove down to pick up my fiancée. Like her lane, a small ridge of stubble grass divided the tire tracks.

The weather nearly matched the day we married all those years ago. Sunny skies and unseasonably warm temperatures dominated that precious day, too. However, the pungent smell of manure that the farmer had sprayed on the fields across from the country church was missing.

We made our way home happy, contented, and glad we had chosen to renew our vows so quietly, personally, amid welcome familiarity.

Steers graze on greening grass. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

Spring Concert!

The Daffodil Choir sang an impressive concert at Edith J. Carrier Arboretum yesterday in Harrisonburg, Virginia. Their harmonic voices carried into the valley and reverberated throughout the surrounding woodlots.

Try as it might, no city or Interstate traffic noise could overpower these beautiful, angelic singers. I lost it when their four-part harmony sang “In the Blub There is a Flower.”

Sunset at Silver Lake

Silver Lake, Dayton, Virginia. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

The broken cloud cover in the early evening looked promising for a decent sunset. It didn’t turn out that way.

When I reached Silver Lake in Dayton, Virginia, the puffy, cumulous clouds had dissipated, leaving only high, wispy cirrus clouds to reflect the sun’s rays. So, I looked east, north, and south instead of west.

The clouds in the southern sky particularly caught my attention. I hustled to the northern end of the popular fishing lake and was thrilled to find the evergreens reflected in the lea of the lake tinted by the mauve sky.

It wasn’t the photo I had expected, but I took what was given, which was all I could do.

Welcome to Spring!

Cloudy or sunny, our neighbor’s daffodils brighten our day. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

It’s spring! The vernal equinox arrived at 5:01 this morning.

Hopefully, that will put to rest winter’s worst weather. At this time of year, any snowfall won’t last long in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley.

Of course, nature’s course doesn’t hold to mankind’s arbitrary seasonal demarkations. I have noticed from afar the hint of coloration of the once-dormant trees that populate Mole Hill, a local and revered landmark. The buds of its red maple trees are especially evident.

A walk around our yard and neighborhood reveals other signs of springtime. Deciduous tree buds are swelling, if not opening, ornamental trees bloom, and a lone Hyacinth blooms. Lenten Rose plants are also blooming right on time despite their winter-singed leaves. The grass is greening and growing. I’ll have to ready the lawnmower for action.

Tulip leaves have knifed through the chilly soil. Migratory birds are slowly arriving while the year-round residents begin to stake out their nesting territories.

It’s springtime, and I couldn’t be happier as long as my allergy medicines remain effective.

Last Night’s Sunset

Yesterday, the western sky was hazy in the late afternoon. After supper, I kept watch and headed to my favorite spots for sunset photography in Rockingham County, Virginia.

Colorful sunsets aren’t always easy to come by here in the Shenandoah Valley. It may look promising early on, but clouds tend to hang over the Allegheny Mountains that mark the state line between Virginia and West Virginia.

Then, just when you want to give up, boom, the pinks and oranges glow, if only briefly. Other times, it’s a complete bust. Nevertheless, I’d rather be patient than miss a stunning sunset.

Last evening, I changed locations several times until the western sky popped with color. I wasn’t in the most desirable spot, but I am not complaining after capturing this muted beauty.

Amish Farm in Late Winter

An Amish farmstead near Mt. Hope, Ohio. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

I recently visited my old stomping grounds in Holmes County, Ohio, home to the world’s largest Amish population. Remnants of snow still covered part of the ground, contrasting with the barren, fallow fields.

I enjoyed finding a few Amish farms, like the one pictured, remaining amid the rapidly expanding tourist businesses scattered throughout the once pristine countryside.

Snow Drops and One Imposter

One of these is not the same as the others. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

Our across-the-street neighbors have lovely flower gardens for all who pass by to enjoy. Since their house faces south, the winter sun, when it shines, warms the front yard.

This, in turn, encourages flowers to bloom when the days warm into the 50s and 60s, like they have for the last few days. I went over to photograph the Snow Drops and discovered that a lone Hyacinth had joined dainty white flowers in showing off its lavender beauty.

These harbingers of spring were most welcome.

Winter Barns

Holstein Hillside. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

Barns have always intrigued me. The various sizes, shapes, colors, conditions, purposes, and settings combine to make photogenic captures. Wintertime is no exception.

Here are a few I recently found.

Please click on the photos to enlarge them.

Red in the Whiteout

Male Northern Cardinal in a recent snowstorm.

My front yard birdfeeders are all on or under the red maple tree just outside my office window. That allows me to keep a keen eye on the comings and goings of the birds that frequent the feeders.

The birds really flock to the feeders before and during a snowstorm. The mix of birds includes the ground-feeding White-throated and White-crowned Sparrows and Dark-eyed Juncos. American Goldfinch, Purple Finch, and House Finch dominate the squirrel-proof hanging tube feeders. They also will feed on the ground, savaging for any seeds that drop from the feeders overhead.

If the army of European Starlings arrives, chaos ensues. The desired birds yield to the noisy and aggressive Starlings. That includes the dependable Northern Cardinals, which brighten the scene with their attractive colors. The female’s red-tinged olive feathers keep her camouflaged during nesting time, while her mate stands out in his all-red coat.

As brightly colored as the black-masked male Northern Cardinals are, they are fairly skittish and passive compared to other birds, like the Carolina Wrens and especially the Starlings.

The male Northern Cardinal in the photo waited on a branch above the feeding frenzy, awaiting an opportunity to fuel up undisturbed. That allowed me to capture the brilliant red in the falling snow.

The Winter That Won’t Quit

Our snow-covered patio. Photo by Bruce Stambaugh

My wife and I moved to Virginia’s lovely Shenandoah Valley seven and a half years ago. We wanted to be close to our three grandchildren, who were approaching their active teen years. We thought watching them play soccer, baseball, and volleyball and perform in concerts and recitals would be fun—and it has been.

But the weather has been irregular, to say the least. Now, our Virginia home is no farther south than Cincinnati, Ohio. So, we knew winters would be cold and snowy from time to time, but usually, the snow didn’t last long. The valley would get six inches of snow, and it would be gone in two days, thanks to the clear blue skies and warmer temperatures.

For the most part, that is what the winters have been like until this year. We might as well have stayed in Ohio, where we sometimes received lake effect snow from strong northerly winds blowing off Lake Erie even though we lived 75 miles south of Cleveland.

The winter here has produced multiple snowstorms that deposited snow ranging from one inch to seven inches. Some areas in the county had even more. We have also had two rounds of freezing rain that brought down large tree limbs and closed schools and businesses. And there’s still more winter weather to come.

Mind you, I am not complaining. I am just stating facts and perhaps a little frustration. Still, I greatly enjoy the beauty the blankets of snow create. I hope that joy is reflected in the photos.

Given this weather, though, we could have visited Upstate New York to play with our fourth grandchild, Teddy, a very curious two-and-a-half-year-old. I think we’ve had more snow than Teddy.

At least the birds have been faithful in visiting our birdfeeders and birdbaths.