Journal of a Sabbatical

March 7, 2001

a world unknown

Adopt these cats at Merrimack River Feline Rescue Society

Quote of the Day: "And, when the second morning shone, We looked upon a world unknown" - Snowbound, John Greenleaf Whittier

Today's Bird Sightings
Ring's Island, Salisbury
hooded merganser (2 m&f)
Salisbury Beach
northern harrier (1)
common goldeneye (2)
red-breasted merganser (1)
brant (8)
dark-eyed junco (2)
snow bunting (8)
the usual gull suspects in the hundreds

Today's Reading: The Little Ice Age by Brian Fagan
Today's Starting Pitcher: I have no idea. Spring Training seems to have escaped my attention today.

I woke this morning to a world unknown all right. Unrecognizable. Some of those hills out there are cars. Some are snow banks left by the plow that came halfway down the parking lot pushing a six foot wall of snow and then inexplicably fled (maybe he heard on the national news that there was no storm), all now covered with fresh snow that fell last night. At first glance there's no way I can get out of the parking lot. I'd have to drive through those six foot hills. I start clearing the fresh snow off the car - I'd already cleaned it off last night so there's only about 6 inches on it now.

A neighbor's kid starts throwing his broken wizard wand at me. I ask him to throw it somewhere away from people. He plunges the broken ends of each half into the snow where the Russian Speaking Dog has lately been and then sticks it in his mouth. Yuck. I tell him that the Wizard's Manual clearly states that wizard wands are not good to eat. The Wizard's Manual is silent on yellow snow - even the Russian speaking kind. Anyway, this kid's mother, with the help of all the neighbors on that side of the courtyard, liberates her vehicle and finds a path around the hills. With her car gone, I see a potential route that only involves my shoveling half the parking lot and demolishing a shorter 4 foot compacted snow mound.

I start shoveling and chopping at 8:15 AM. Once I've broken through the smaller mound, a neighbor from that side of the courtyard comes over to suggest possible approaches. I rock the car back and forth, shovel some more, rock some more. Now I'm ready to try the escape route. Darn, I didn't shovel a wide-enough path for the car. Double darn, if I try to squeeze between the mountain and the neighbor's car I'll hit his car. He offers to try it. Seven attempts and he makes it out, although he hits his own car with mine. His is not damaged. Mine has the parking light/directional hanging by its wires. But, I'm now in a clearing where I can get some traction to plow through the remaining 30 inches of snow on the parking lot and out to the street. It's only 9:15! Somehow it seemed longer.

I encounter a few more obstacles getting out to Rt. 125, but arrive at the cat shelter around 10:00 just as Kendra is washing litter boxes. Bob has made it in despite downed tree limbs. Roy is snowbound. Barb has spent the last two nights sleeping here. Everyone seems in good spirits. The cats seem oblivious to what the humans have gone through. Savannah is on top of the big yellow bucket, so I give her a wide berth. For some reason, her perching there is not bothering Sandy today. He's zoned out on top of Miss Newburyport's cage. Miss Newburyport is sound asleep on top of the dryer. This is about as normal as it gets.

New cats this week are Brad and Jules. Brad is a one year old short-haired male who came to us as a stray. He's affectionate, friendly, and loves being petted. Brad is a real love bug. Jules is a 5 to 6 month old short-haired male former feral. Jules likes being patted and is affectionate and friendly when approached slowly. He's a bit timid so will need some patience. Jules must be an indoor cat. He would prefer a quiet home with adults and would enjoy the company of other cats.

Sandy gets a burst of energy and runs around trying to play with every single toy in the place. He's having a ball. He finally settles on an empty box that's just appeared as the perfect toy. Neeko for some reason doesn't realize that she can't sink her claws into the smooth plastic of the small plastic house thingie near the window. She's on top of it and tries to launch herself up to the window. She slides right off and slinks away embarrassed. It's hard not to anthropomorphize cats when they act exactly like embarrassed little kids. She heads for the laundry room and threatens Miss Newburyport. I wield a towel and tell her "Leave Miss Newburyport alone! She's old and grumpy!" This sparks discussion of how old Miss Newburyport is (9) and how Jaguar is quite possibly immortal. And who is the oldest volunteer: Roy or Marcia? Marcia has more energy than all of us younger people combined. Suddenly the hour of intense shoveling hits me and I ache all over. Aieeey, I feel old.

A veggie sub at Angelina's and a large dark roast coffee from Fowle's help some. Today's post-cat shit activities were supposed to include Ned, but a quick phone call determines he's still snowed in, so I'm off to look for birds, waves, and storm damage by myself. The refuge is closed. The road is only plowed as far as the gatehouse and the gate is shut tight. I backtrack to Salisbury and tackle the not very well plowed road past Ring's Island. A pair of hooded mergansers cavort in some open water close to the road. The male's erect crest shines like a beacon despite the lack of sun. At Salisbury Beach the waves are not very interesting but a flock of snow buntings and a small flock of brant make up for it. A lone male red-breasted merganser floats on the Merrimack not bothering to display for the common goldeneyes and the brant. Where are his fellows?

The return home turns into an adventure. Rt. 133 is blocked off at Rt. 114 by several different types and jurisdictions of vehicles with flashing lights. There are enough different colors to give the effect of one those laser light shows they put on at the planetarium. I sort of knew there was way more snow here than in Newburyport and Salisbury, but it's so much more obvious on returning to it than it was when I left this morning. I measured 29 inches in front of my house, but I think there's more in the back. Anyway, once home after many detours, there's no place to park. I can't get back in to the parking lot and there's no space on the street. I retreat to Starbucks for awhile, buy groceries, pick up prescriptions, etc., and try again. I score a space on the street and determine to leave it there for the duration.

The sky finally starts clearing around 4:30 or 5:00 PM. It doesn't actually get blue until twilight, making a kind of winter wonderland when the moon rises. Snow-burdened trees arch their branches over the roads creating tunnels. It looks like Currier and Ives print. There's a notice in my mailbox that the plow isn't coming until tomorrow. The forecast calls for more snow on Friday.