December, Fun in the Snow and Ice, Winter Wildlife, Won’t Be Long Now

I’ve thought it curious ever since I was a grade school kid that December has stayed “December” through the centuries.  Just the kind of thing a kid like me would snicker at – that the 10th month (Latin, of course, “decem” for 10) is stuck with being the 12th month.  (September, October, and November – 7, 8, and 9, respectively – share the same being “thrown off.”)

Even grade school kids know the problem:  that the big shot Romans Julius Caesar and Emperor Augustus pushed in there to have “July” and “Augustus” named after them.  But how hard would it have been to adjust the other months to get back in line?  Sorry, September and October, you know longer fit and while it was nice knowing you, November will now follow August.  It means ninth, so it should be the ninth month.  Them’s the breaks.  Of course, to follow my logic, the month beginning today would become “Duodecimber” (Latin “duodecim” for twelve); which, now that I look at it, seems cumbersome, confusing and tongue-twisting.  As much as it grates someone like me, logic doesn’t always seem to work for the best.  (A fact that Congress seems to live and breathe.)

So, we’re stuck with the inconsistency of December; but the month makes up for it in some great ways!  We are into the first week of the sacred season of Advent – the greatest time of the whole year for anticipation (although opening days of trout season, upland bird hunting, and deer hunting, jostle for the title in my personal life).  And even if I made the powerful case for the world slowing down in its rotation (see post for November 21) and the days lengthening ever so imperceptibly, the time seems to tick away very rapidly as we approach the holiness of Christmas.  Won’t be long now!

December for most of my life meant fun in the snow and ice.  Even though I am now living in the high desert of Southern California when December rolls around, I remember well and fondly making a little sledding course down our hillside in northern Wisconsin for our daughters, cross-country skiing, at least one attempt each year for ring-necked pheasants in the snow, and hunting ruffed grouse in the snow of early December (speaking of which, the winter issue of “Michigan Out-of-Doors” just hit the stands with my published article on winter grouse hunting; buy several, please).

But the biggest thing for me – at least time-spent – was ice fishing.  Particularly in Wisconsin, by today, December 1, there was always safe ice to go out on a lake and fish through holes that I would augur down to reach liquid water.  I know, I know, lots of people think that ice fishing is a strange and masochistic kind of misery….and can only think of the silliness and “over the top” antics of “Grumpy Old Men.”  But “early ice” was often the best time of the year for catching walleyes, northern pike, perch and other pan fish – a lot of great, delicious fillets for the table!  And really, a lot of fun, which people of any age could do.  Don’t generally need a lot of experience, expensive tackle, or sophisticated fishing skill to catch good fish through the ice.  You just had to be fine with heavy parkas, long underwear, felt-pack boots…..and have a big insulated thermos for coffee, hot chocolate, or, for some, stronger stuff.

Winter wildlife is very special, too.  There can scarcely be a cuter, more entertaining, seemingly cheerier, little bird than the chickadee.  Native American people enjoyed them tremendously, and believed that they possessed a special wisdom (had to, to thrive so effortlessly when it was 30-below in the daytime, and joyously punctuating the frozen air with their “chick-a-dee, dee, dee,dee” song).  And although most of the raptors – hawks, falcons, many of the eagles – would have migrated south for easier hunting, great horned owls stuck around, picking off an occasional grouse on its perch or a squirrel venturing out for a snack before bedtime.  If there was any open water available where current kept it from freezing – as at a dam spillway – at least some bald eagles would hang around, snatching fish that came near the surface.

And a rare and special treat would be a visit from the diurnal (active in the daytime) snowy owl.  Just about as big as the great horned – fierce “tiger of the skies” – snowy owls drifting down from the Canadian boreal forests were beautiful, white flecked with black, and effective, efficient predators.  It was at least a bit amusing to watch a flock of crows discover and start to harass a perched snowy owl.  The crow would be well familiar with the great horned owls, barred owls, and other usual owl neighbors – all of whom would be largely nocturnal, trying to rest in the daytime, and easy targets for pesky crows to bedevil.  Not so with the diurnal snowy owl, who was actively hunting in the daytime and could see just fine, thank you.  All it took was a crow that ventured too close to those powerful talons for the rest of the flock to react, “Whoa, that’s not what we expected.  Sorry to bother you, buddy.  Have a nice winter stay here in the southland.”

December wildlife is less visible here in the high desert – desert tortoise, the many varieties of lizards, virtually all of the insects, certainly the tarantula that visited awhile back, many of the birds – are nowhere to be seen.  Coyotes and jackrabbits are still around our house; and occasionally a late migrator like the phoebe that flew up to my door this afternoon.

And soon we will observe the winter solstice – December 21, also the full Cold Moon that night.  And then the days will start getting longer again, the nights shorter.  (Actually, the sun will have already started setting a little later by the 12th and a bit before….but that gets us back into rotational tilt and stuff that we don’t have time for now.)  It won’t be long now!