Driving through St. Lawrence County, no matter what time of year, it's not uncommon to see herds of livestock along the roadsides. The strong speckled bodies of cows stand together in groups, their hooves barely denting the frozen ground beneath them. Sheep gather around mounds of hay, some of them practically camouflaged under the piles of snow that accumulate on their backs.

February 21-27 is National Invasive Species Awareness Week, not to be confused with New York State’s Invasive Species Awareness Week, which happens in July. I don’t know about you, but I’d prefer a Blissful Ignorance Week when it comes to creepy insect pests. But since I can only keep my head in the sand so long before my ears get itchy, what the heck—bring on this “Awareness” stuff.

The willows are weeping, but then so is every other flavor of tree in northern New York right now. The storm that hit the northeast on President’s Day brought significant ice to New York state’s northern tier, ice which has persisted for nearly a week now. If your birches are bent, spruces sagging or crabapples crooked, don’t let the ice get you down as well. As long as we don’t get a heavy snow on top of the ice load, many of these trees will straighten up over the spring and summer. Even if a tree remains stooped come July, judicious pruning can help straighten things out.

The winter weather may have taken its time getting here this year, but I think we can agree that the North Country has once again been transformed into the icy, frigid landscape we have come to know and love (or at the very least, tolerate begrudgingly).

With snow covering the ground, ice coating our walkways, and Jack Frost nipping at our noses, agricultural pollinators are probably the last things on our minds. However, for the dedicated enthusiasts among us, one question remains: where are the bees?  

Remember that kid at school who was good at everything? Smart, athletic, popular, usually in a higher income bracket—seems like there was one in every class who must have taken more than their fair share when luck was handed out. And didn’t you find them annoying some days?

“Make me one with everything.” If you had to guess, you’d probably say that was either a request to a short-order cook at a diner, or else a supplication to the Divine. This winter, I think someone whispered that line in Mother Nature’s ear, because even though it is not yet half over, she has already made us a winter with everything. It’s as if she glanced at her weather playlist and hit the buttons for unseasonable warmth, extreme cold, high winds, rain, sleet, ice, and snow, and then selected the “shuffle” function and walked away.

This winter took a long time to wise up. Snow lovers lamented, but I was among those who enjoyed the break from snow shoveling and firewood hauling during our pseudo-September. However, I noticed some less positive effects of the tropical weather. For one thing, the buds on my currant bushes decided it must be spring and began to open. Coltsfoot, dandelions, and Johnny-jump-ups bloomed. Buds on silver and red maples swelled and looked ready to burst open any moment. What happens when plants get confused by the weather?

What fearless animal has an adorable face, plows snow all winter and has a six-million acre park named after it?

One of 29 species worldwide, the North American porcupine is the largest New World species, growing to 36 inches long and weighing as much as 35 pounds. That makes it the second-largest North American rodent (behind the beaver), but still only half the size of an African crested porcupine which can exceed 60 pounds. It is also the only cold-hardy porcupine, and one of the few that climb trees.