Winter

Back in Ann Arbor, winter was creeping into the city when I returned to work. I stayed in Michigan through Christmas and New Year’s; there was snow, sleet, ice, and a day of negative 40 wind chill; I trekked through the Arboretum in the middle of a snowstorm, in single digit weather, and while the entire thing was a giant ice slick; then one day we woke up, the snow was gone, the weather was warm(ish), and spring had arrived. That actually sums up all of December, January, and February pretty well. Michigan did get some snow, but the roads stayed clear and the temperatures (mostly) high enough that I ended up biking to band a couple times in January and February, which was not the case last year. At the end of January/beginning of February, the university declared classes cancelled for two days for extreme cold. Air temperatures were in the single digits with wind chills of negative 30 to negative 40. I agreed with the first day of no classes because a significant number of students have to travel to campus, wait for buses, walk to class, etc. The second day was cold, but not that cold. Cornell semi-regularly got down to negative 30 wind chill and their response was to send out a mass email telling people to wear layers and be careful when walking to class. This time, I did, however, wear my winter jacket for the first time in four or five years.

The Arboretum in a snowstorm

In the middle of January, I returned to Hill Auditorium to see the Ann Arbor Symphony Orchestra play Mozart, including the Requiem accompanied by local high school and community choruses. A week later, Ann Arbor was hit by a snow storm. Naturally, I thought that was a great time to go to the Arboretum to get some pictures. It was a fantastic time to go to the Arboretum. The only other people dumb, I mean hearty, enough to be there were runners and other photographers. The next day, in 11-degree temperatures, I returned to the Arboretum for more pictures. Funnily enough, I only saw about 11 other living things there – five cross country skiers, two snowshoers, some people walking, and two dogs. I made one last winter trip to the Arboretum near the end of February, when the snow was packed down and had gone through several freeze/thaw cycles so all the paths were pretty slick. Not dangerously icy (and still better than the sidewalk outside of my apartment that spawns black ice every time it sleets, or rains and freezes, or snows and melts and refreezes), but I wouldn’t have recommended it for children, the elderly, or anyone who hasn’t had to run for the school bus at six thirty am on partially shoveled frozen sidewalks.

One day later.  Eleven degrees at the Arboretum

The last of my winter adventures were a walk at the Barton Nature Area with a family from church and a bike ride on the Border to Border trail to Gallup Park on the first moderately warm/clear day in March. I’d never been to the Barton Nature Area because it’s in one of those areas of Ann Arbor that’s a pain in the neck to get to without a car. It’s next to Bird Hills Nature Area, which I also still haven’t been to, and has some unpaved trails and a dam. The Border to Border trail, on the other hand, is fairly accessible. I get on the trail about halfway along its path through Ann Arbor, and on this occasion, I biked in the Gallup Park direction. It was in the low forties, with sun, and unfortunately I wasn’t the only one taking advantage of the break in the weather. Most of the time the pedestrians and bikers are decent at staying to the right, giving signals and/or space when passing, and generally not running each other over, but not this day. There were multiple people walking straight down the middle of the trail, stepping into my path, and weaving back and forth.

Top: Melting Arboretum.  Bottom left: Barton Dam.

Bottom right: The Huron River from Gallup Park on the Border to Border Trail.

So that was winter. Research, questionable outdoor activity, and I also TA’d, again, possibly for the last time. I might write more about my teaching experience, or I might post another five hundred words on the contents of my refrigerator. If you’re really fortunate, you might get both.