Anchor Struck

At long last February. I used to mark the seasons astronomically but have switched to meteorologically because it gets through winter faster. If you go by solstices and equinoxes, winter usually starts on December 20th and spring usually on March 20th. Today is the midpoint between the two dates: Imbolc for Wiccans and pagans, Candlemas for Christians, Groundhog Day for Bill Murray fans.

But if you go with the meteorological model, today marks the 64th day of the winter bundle of 90 in a non-leap year. By that metric, we are 71 percent through this perplexing quarter season, give or take a few hours. I eagerly await March 1st.

I hope that our farm is getting winter weary as well. It has rained and snowed all day. We can get up and down most of our driveway. The weather has leveled out enough that our persnickety micro-hydro system has been behaving well. I haven’t had to trek up to the catchment barrel for four days, allowing me to build up our firewood supply.

And I’m still struggling with the sudden death of my friend Gordon.