I live right on the shore of superior, and I will say its been a while since the lake has frozen like this. I will say however that I dont find it unusual. Remember the last 20 or so years have been extremely odd and not consistant with the last hundred years or so of data. The new averages are from the warmest periods in a very long time. Ive worked in retail and sales for a long time and talk to all sorts of people.. I always ask older people and the elderly about the weather. All I have heard from them is that this is much more what they are "used to" or remember from a while ago. I myself remember winters here being the same as this year when I was younger (roughly 20 years). The way I see it is that we are thinking of the most recent memories winter wise and forget how it was. The great lakes used to freeze almost every winter (dont get me wrong, the ice cover on the great lakes is really impressive this year) Many ice breakers stopped coming up here because of the lack of ice. The lack of snow over the last decade or more here has left superior, the other lakes and rivers low (there is a natural cycle of high low water levels) due to lack of snowfall, and of course the urbanization of the area and felling of trees etc. Just on a side note now that I am ranting (Which I apoligize for lol) I have seen many people in the news on forums and social media asking "climate change? Global warming? really?" Climate change does not mean a steady warm up or cool down. All the evidence points to fluctuations in the extreme either way which goes along with a general warming or cooling trend over the long run. The data still points to a general warming pattern. Again, the global average temps are still above average for 2013 and the winter of 2013-14. North america does not equal to the rest of the world. Spring will come, just expect the unexpected like we have for the last 20 or so years. There is some evidence of a strong el nino pattern. Lets hope for a warm spring and a toasty summer with proper rain!

Well, no fooling you guys!! Magnificent creatures and they are making a comeback in the wilds of our modern cities. The Peregrine Falcon is often stated to be the fastest animal on the planet in its hunting dive, the stoop,(I should give TM an extra star for knowing that word!!)which involves soaring to a great height and then diving steeply at speeds commonly said to be over 320 km/h (200 mph)- no one seems to agree on the speeds, and hitting one wing of its prey so as not to harm itself on impact. The air pressure from a 200 mph (320 km/h) dive could possibly damage a bird's lungs, but small bony tubercles on a falcon's nostrils guide the powerful airflow away from the nostrils, enabling the bird to breathe more easily while diving by reducing the change in air pressure. To protect their eyes, the falcons use their nictitating membranes (third eyelids) to spread tears and clear debris from their eyes while maintaining vision. A study testing the flight physics of an "ideal falcon" found a theoretical speed limit at 400 km/h (250 mph) for low altitude flight and 625 km/h (390 mph) for high altitude flight. In 2005, Ken Franklin recorded a falcon stooping at a top speed of 389 km/h (242 mph). I'm attaching a video of one of the dives in a link. So, for everyone - Thanks to everyone for playing this weekend!! Nancy. Here is a link that might be useful: Skydiving with a Falcon

LOL, I can't take credit for moving this one up - wolfsong328 did it, and I enjoyed reading it for the first time. Unusual town names are nothing new in Upstate NY, either. There are so many unusual names/pronunciations that one radio station here made up their own spoof song, based on Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start The Fire," called "We Didn't Say Your Town Right." Nunda = Nun-DAY Avon = A-vahn (hard A, as in "flat") Endicott = EN-dee-cot (I still can't say it that way, and I've lived near there for 12 years. . . .)Cuylerville = KYE-ler-vill Geneseo = jenn-eh-SEE-oh Apalachin = A-puh-LAY-kin Owego = oh-WE-go Chemung = sheh-MUNG Olean = OH-lee-ann Newark Valley = NERK Valley (to locals) Skaneateles = "Skinny Atlas" to people who live there, "scan-ee-AT-ll-us" to others Then there's Painted Post, Horseheads, Sanitaria Springs, Big Flats, and any number of wonderful Native American-derived names. Nothing suggestive (although I wonder if the kids in Vestal get teased about "vestal virgins"). Laurel

There's lots of good food for thought here. I like Asha's comment that "Boundaries do not make space, space makes boundaries," because that's how I feel about my garden and it's "rooms". Right now, my garden has eight (perhaps nine) areas that could be described as "rooms." None of these were part of my original design (I did not know enough about gardening design when I started to plan them in) but just "happened" as shrubs and trees matured and set off different garden spaces. They do not include landscaped areas outside the fence line, which could also be given descriptive names (cherry-viewing drive; magnolia-viewing parking strip; rhododendron glen). None take their names from rooms inside the house, but derive them from plantings or sculptures which set them off from other sections of the garden. The first of these, my "workout" room created itself when the weeping katsura tree encloses a flat space that just called for setting up an exercise machine, so I could work out while smelling the flowers and listening to the birds. Augmented by ferns, climbing roses, and hop vines, it has become totally private. Next to it is the "nursery", which is part seasonal swamp and part brush pile, and has several bird houses. It is here that most of the fledgling birds gather in spring, hence its name. In summer, it is shaded by evergreens and by a ten-foot-tall Gunnera manicata. (In winter it becomes the "snow viewing room", because it has a sheltered seat from which I can contemplate a large "snow-viewing" lantern.) The other side of the front walkway also has two "rooms": the hummingbird viewing room (which borders the pond), and the orchard. I love sitting here on a stone bench on warm summer afternoons and watch the hummers feed on the flowers. South of this, on the east side of the house, is my "tropical garden" room. This is the warmest part of the garden and all sorts of semi-hardy exotics thrive and bloom here: banana, canna, eucryphia, hedychium, et al. (In season, I could also call it the "peony room" or "camellia room"). Next to it, is a low wooden deck, where my potted tropicals (orange, lemon, grapefruit, tree fern, prince's flower, et al. live in summer). It is enclosed by camellias on two sides and partially shaded by a tall oyama magnolia. It serves as our outdoor dining room (and as an occasional work space) because it has a table and chairs and can be shaded by a market umbrella on hot days. At night (and on quiet days) it becomes a raccoon playpen. The southeast corner of the garden, shaded by my neighbor's tall redcedar and by my bamboos, dove tree, plum and almond tree, purple plum, and 'Elizabeth' magnolia, is called the "hydrangea room" for the different varieties of this shrub which form its "walls". I keep a steamer chair in this quiet place for relaxing with a glass of wine after a hard day's work. Unlike the walls of my house, the boundaries of these garden rooms are flexible. Even as I am typing this, I am noticing changes that will slowly alter the configuration of these rooms and transform them into different spaces.