Writer at the Gihon River
January 2010
This is the second time I have seen the long tailed weasel as I try to get down to work this morning. The river is presenting him with a challenge and a wonderful source of distraction for me as the ice is in the process of breaking up.
Last night in the gentle dusky light of the early evening, I heard clunking ice sounds outside my window. The water was in motion. It was no longer limited to a narrow irregularly shaped opening down the center. The ice was singing as it resettled and expanded itself within the narrow confines of the Gihon. The night air outside my window was cold and smelled earthy. The wet dirt smell at this time of year was tantalizing.
This morning however, there is no gentle rippling of a coldwater river but a lumpy ice jam. Grey spikes of chunky ice and striped tree branches protrude from the river’s surface in all directions. Under the nearby bridge, is a 20-foot opening in the ice. The dark brown water must be going under the ice jam but there is no obvious movement yet. I’m hoping to see some and perhaps a little violence of colliding misshapen blocks of ice. With luck, it could spew upward and spill over the banks directly below my window.
Twice this morning, I have seen the long sleek body of the weasel as he runs along the river’s edge. First one way on the far bank and then the other way on my side. He must have crossed over the bridge. Or maybe he skittered across the ice jam when I wasn’t looking.
Long tailed weasels, mustala frenata, live everywhere in Vermont including woodlands, areas between field and forests and open fields. They are happy almost anywhere as long as they have a water source nearby. This past week’s thaw has invited him out into the open and along the river’s edge. According to the Vermont Fish and Wildlife Factsheet, weasels do most of their hunting during the night when perhaps this one began his search.
The ice jam and the weasel distract me from my task of writing a series of reflective essays on my ocean rowing. So now, I want to see the river ice suddenly heave upwards and shake the foundations of Maverick Studios. I want to see the weasel run back and forth on the ice jam until challenged by one that breaks from the rest and he is forced to jump in and swim for it. Or, maybe he’ll merely drift down river on a floe and hop off when he reaches shore. Nothing like this has happened so far.
I’ll try to tear my eyes away from the scene outside my window. But first one last look around.
12:35 pm
Update:
The 20 foot gap under the bridge has filled in and there is no longer any open water. The sky is full of drifting snowflakes and the temperature is getting colder. It’s as if winter is pulling itself back from going towards spring. At least I can see a little open water at the river’s edge.
