4Jan2008

Spruce Hill Walk of Friday, 4Jan2008, 2.5 hours, temperature 17degrees, sunny, 10 - 20 mph wind. Three to four inches of snow had fallen in the last couple of days and with early morning temperatures still in the teens, I knew this would be a prime time to walk the hill and see what other creatures had had similar thoughts.

A pristine field of white snow cover is what I eagerly anticipated as I crossed over onto preserve property but unfortunately, I was greeted instead by ugly 4w scars and tracks that had been seared into the snow cover mere hours before. The tracks entered and exited at the same point on the east side of Spruce Hill, edged the entire field along its eastern length, crossed from the neck to the pond, across other property owners' parcels and then back down the eastern hillside towards Knockemstiff Valley.

As I continued my trek along the SE field edge in the woods, I distracted myself from the ugly 4w scars by listening to the wind building as it crossed the barren expanse of Mitchell Flats. The winds embrace the tall bare tree tops, which grab hold of it, translating it into a visual symphony for me, as they wave and sway and roar gently in unison. Snow cover, too, in a place like this, adds an entirely different dimension to a hike. In between gusts of wind, all is quiet---throbbingly quiet. Often the ground is hidden, so every step can be a surprise as far as where or how it ends up. Gone are the boring browns and grays of the long-fallen leaves; everything is alight with white and when the sun hits the snow at the right angle, the snow-covered, open field turns into a magical vista of sparkling diamonds.

Spruce Hill and its companion ridge are renowned for hosting their own microclimate. Often, when the hill will be blanketed in several inches of snow, the valley below will have received only a mere dusting in comparison. This was the case today. While the valley's thin snowcover melted away, Spruce Hill still retained its four inch deep insulating blanket of white. (That's why I like to think of Spruce Hill as our own little local version of Mount Kilimanjaro.) In the spring and fall, when fog settles in the valley and neighboring hollows, it will be perfectly sunny on the hill. Yet, at other times, especially when the spring thaw occurs, the hill remains cooler and as the day breaks, draping fog and clouds collude to totally obscure the ridgetop, and it is only by driving down into Paint Creek Valley and seeing no fog there, that one realizes that the entire world is not blanketed in white mist.

From tracks in the snow, I deduced that a pair of coyotes moved thru on the NE side of the field about 15 feet into the woods. They appeared to continue onto the footpath and down in the direction of the parking lot. One had scuffed up the leaves and marked his territory to the right of the footpath. I followed the tracks partway down the path, then veered off the trail and walked north to a tree-covered promontory--taking in Paint Creek Valley--virtually in its entirety. I also spied many, many wildflower markers--recent décor on that particular point. From this spot, one can see west all the way past the Jones Levee/Rt.50 junction, the entire hamlet of Bourneville, Twin Township Cemetery, as well as east towards Chillicothe and the Blain Highway/Rt. 50 junction, and even beyond that. The cars on US Route 50 look like 'Matchbox' cars, as I gaze down on them from almost a thousand foot elevation. What a view!!

As I finished up my trek along the southeast edge of the field, I used my binoculars to scan the landcape west along Paint Creek Valley, where Route 50 slithers across the foothills of the opposite ridge. As I got my bearings after a bit, I realized that that tiny, tiny, white, buttermint-shaped mound far, far off in the distance was Seip Mound! I had heard for many years that it was possible to see that mound from Spruce Hill. What a joy to finish my trek with that discovery and to actually sense that connectivity to those who had come before.

Wildlife sightings: American crow, red-bellied woodpecker, northern cardinal