Beardsicles

Sunday January 1 2017

Hoar frost is one of the biggest delights of winter. Mother Nature creates delicate icy designs with fog and cold and a slight breeze.

On this day, the hoar frost collected on Finneas' mane and under his chin for a nice beardsicle.

It also grew on legs

and tails.

Winter art!

Manesicle

December 15 2016

And here I was all worried that we wouldn't get any real winter weather (although winter doesn't technically start for another week), and we got a good 6 inches yesterday (!!!!!!!). Temperature close to freezing, and the sky dropping tiny little ice slivers, so it was a wet snow, which slowly piled up during the day.

Made for scenic icicles in horse manes. Stormy sports his with a dash of flair.

The Candelabra

Friday January 31 2014

We pass through the Candelabra Gate when we ride up onto the northwest flats. I've never even asked why there is a candelabra perched on that gate. It must have been perched there by the guy who owns the property (and never has lived here). I like to think he had a sense of humor.

Mother Nature in winter not only has a sense of humor, but an exquisite artistic flare. While hoar frost in itself is a fascinating minor miracle, the 2-inch long hoar frost shards that Mother Nature sculpted on the Candelabra (particularly on the western sides) during the weeks of freezing fog was absolutely spectacular.

Merry Christmas Hoar Frost

Sunday December 22 2013

Wikipedia says the ice crystals form on cold clear nights, but I've always seen hoar frost after a moist fog blankets an area well under freezing temperatures. "Air hoar" is frost crystals on the surface of things - baling twine, horse hair, even horse coats, eyelashes, manes and tails. "Surface hoar" is fernlike ice crystals deposited directly on frozen surfaces (like, say, the ice already in your water troughs).

The word Hoar, says Wikipedia, "comes from an Old English adjective for showing signs of old age, and is used in this context in reference to the frost which makes trees and bushes look like white hair."

We'll call it Santa's beard here.

Merry Christmas all!
 

 

Ten Below

Thursday December 10 2009

It doesn't often get to -10* F here on the creek in Owyhee.

The horses don't seem to mind despite the ice crystal blanket on their thick coats and whiskers and eyelashes.

Who Took My Mountains

Thursday January 22 2009

It's been so long since I've seen the Owyhees - only 6 miles up the canyon - that I'm not sure they are still there.

Something like two weeks ago, they were big and in your face and covered with snow, but visibility has been, for two solid weeks, a mile at the most, and 50 yards at the least. The hoarfrost is mostly gone in the canyon here, but the temperature has varied little from 25* since the last glimpse of the sun.

Stormy took me on a cold ride this morning after a slight smattering of snowflakes on the porch steps. As we headed down the road, briefly the sun tried to make a timid appearance, just to remind us that it IS still up there somewhere. We fleetingly cast an impostor of a shadow... until the sun gave up and evaporated behind clouds again.

If you move along, you can stay warm, but with Stormy - it was one of those cold rides. We go slow because he's got bad feet. And because he's lazy. And because he likes to eat his way up the washes. That's okay with me, he enjoys it. (Anything for my horse : )

Today the clouds are higher, visibility is a bit further, but still no Owyhee Mountains. Just a bit of hoarfrost is still lingering on the sagebrush on the northwest flats; and on one, single 15 foot span of barbed wire between fence posts up there, hoarfrost still clings fiercely to one side of the barbed wire. It's only on this one short section of fencing, and nowhere else. The mysterious magic of ice.

It was chilly, a slight breeze freezing toes and fingers nearing the end of the ride - feet stuffed far into the fleece stirrup covers Carol made for me, gloved hands stuffed down in pockets, and head hunched down into zipped layers.

My eyes were watering. Stormy and I both had a runny nose. It hurts the frozen feet to get off the tall horse to open a gate, and it hurts to mount back up (well, that has less to do with the cold and more to do with wear and tear : )

In a rather perverse way, I love the gray skies and fog, and yes, the snow and the cold - though it would be nice to get a glimpse of the mountains again one of these days, just to make sure they are there. And it IS nice to get back into the house and thaw the frozen body parts.

Crystal Clear

Sunday January 4 2009

With the sun out, the trails mostly clear of ice and slippery mud (the ground is frozen), the thermometer needle sitting on 15 degrees, and Fairy Dust shimmering as it floated down out of the bright clear sky, Carol and I got our butts in the saddle, seeing as snow is predicted for tonight and tomorrow (!). I saddled up Jose as the Fairy Dust continued to fall around us, settling on all exposed surfaces, leaving behind forests of razor thin crystal trees standing up in a brilliant salute to Nature's clever artwork.

I discovered a breeze as soon as Jose and I headed toward Carol's house which would have been pleasant if it had been, say, 40 degrees, but at 15 degrees, it tended to penetrate right through the four layers I had on.

We chose to go along Steph's trail on the ridge with our backs to the wind, then return home in the sheltered Training Wash. The horses' breaths were steaming, all our noses were cold and running, and Jose collected a bit of ice on his cheek under his eye, of all places. Even the cow pies had ice crystals on them.

It was a beautiful day, so sharp and clear - the Boise mountains 50 miles to the northwest standing out pristinely and close (sometimes there's a layer of smog from Boise, and if you can see them, they look a hundred miles away), the Owyhees 6 miles to the southwest flawless and inviting.

I've got warm enough riding clothes and gloves; now I just need some warmer shoes. Not whining, but my toes felt like they were made of the Fairy Dust ice crystals that were still on the hitching post when we returned.