The effects of a delayed winter
Wednesday, Jan. 11, 2012Once upon a time there was a season called winter.
It was a cold, cold time when animals would curl up in their dens to wait out the storms and people would wear mittens and hats.
The sap in the trees would freeze and seeds would lie dormant in the frozen ground. White fluffy matter called snow fell from the sky and covered the earth. Men in big trucks worked long into the night, pushing the snow off the streets. The people would groan and complain and long for the return of warmth and sunshine in the season called Spring.
Then, in the year 2012, winter did not come. The days were warm and sunny. Snow did not fall from the sky. Perplexed, the animals emerged from their dens and wandered the muddy woods. Confused, the trees drew upon their unfrozen sap. Dismayed, the men with big trucks sat and drank coffee, waiting for phone calls that never came. And the people groaned and complained and longed for winter to come ...
Yes, many of us have longed for winter to come, and it has, finally. The recent snow, wind and cold may turn the winter-that-wasn#146;t into the winter-that-tried. No matter what transpires between now and March, the long stretch of mild and unseasonably warm December and January will make an interesting story.
Observations of the oddities of the season contribute to the story and lead to a lot of interesting questions.
As I walked in the woods without hat or gloves for most of the early part of winter, I couldn#146;t help but wonder about the ecological ramifications of the balmy beginning of winter.
Here are just a few observations, and some questions to ponder:
Ÿ A trapper friend of mine found a sow raccoon in estrus at Christmas time, signaling readiness to mate. Raccoons normally mate in February. Does this mean that litters will come too early, only to get zapped by a cold snap-yet-to-be?
Ÿ Ranger Tom Stewart of the Forest Preserve District of Kane County commented that some bushes have put out new green leaves this month. He#146;s also seen dandelions in full bloom. Will premature leaf production and early flowering deplete plants#146; energy reserves needed for spring?
Eastern bluebirds have been very active in the forest preserves this January, he added. Not unheard of, but not common either. Will these songbirds have anything to sing about come spring?
Ÿ Speaking of birds, several people have asked me why the sandhill cranes are still migrating in January. I discussed this with restoration ecologist Denis Kania of the St. Charles Park District, who noted that with the mild weather there hasn#146;t been much impetus for the cranes to move south. They are usually pushed south with the advent of winter and reach their wintering grounds by late November or early December.
Ÿ Kania and I also discussed the amount of skunk and opossum roadkill in the last two weeks. This type of carnage usually doesn#146;t occur until the first thaw in late February or March. The fact that these omnivores are out and about, foraging along roadsides, means that they haven#146;t denned up as they normally do in January. Will they get caught unawares when and if winter decides to come for good?
Ÿ Last week, just out of curiosity, I tapped a maple tree at Tekakwitha Woods. Sap fairly gushed out of the tree. At this time of year sap is usually frozen in trees, not to be drawn upon by the tree until early spring in preparation for buds to open. A deep freeze, noted Kania, will cause the sap to refreeze, which in turn will cause the outer bark to crack. And if the sap is running in early January, I wonder, will it still be available for the tree #8212; and for maple syrup epicures #8212; in the spring?
Ÿ It#146;s not just maple trees weeping sap. Many trees that have been cut or pruned have #147;wept.#148; I watched two honeybees hovering over a recently cut tree last week, drinking the sap that oozed from the open trunk. This leads me to wonder, will pollinators like bees be killed by the late cold and therefore be unavailable to pollinate flowers in spring? And what about the insect pests #8212; without prolonged deep freezes this winter, will there be an explosion of these guys next summer? I shudder to think of legions of Japanese beetles, mosquitoes, and German yellowjackets emerging en masse.
These questions are based on casual observations, and any attempt at answering the questions is merely conjecture at this point. While some people may be tempted to cry #147;global warming!#148; it#146;s important to remember that climate is a long-term phenomenon expressed in terms of averages, and weather is short-term and expressed with data such as daily temperatures and precipitation. Weather is fickle, and one oddball season like this one doesn#146;t necessarily signify long-term change. The balmy months of December and part of January may be just an anomaly, a blip on the charts of weather statistics.
If asked to comment on this crazy winter, Yogi Berra would surely say, #147;It ain#146;t over till it#146;s over.#148; Amen.
So I stack some more firewood and settle in with a good book. I look out the window into the woods and prairie. I wait and I watch. Time will tell how this season plays out. Maybe, just maybe, the Winter-That-Wasn#146;t will become the ferocious winter of 2012 that we#146;ve all anticipated.
One thing is certain: the flora and fauna will endure, in ways we can#146;t predict. And spring will come in due time.