Whistling winds, frosts and flowers,

icicles and snowy towers,

new-born clouds and aether low’es,

these and more are seasonal sprights,

evenings dark and dismal nights,

rural storms and dreary sights. – Columbian Almanack for 1789

Phases of the Tufted Titmouse moon

And the Red-Winged Blackbird Moon

Feb. 9: The Tufted Titmouse Moon enters its final quarter.

Feb. 17: The Red-winged Blackbird Moon is new.

Feb. 24: The Moon enters its second quarter. 

The February Outlook for Southwestern Ohio and the Lower Midwest

A typical February brings one day with highs in the 60s, two or three in the 50s, a week in the 40s, eight to 10 days in the 30s, six in the 20s and one or two days only in the teens or single digits. There is a 50 percent chance of a morning or two below zero.

The coldest part of February usually falls between the 1st and the 14th. Early Spring, a pivotal warming time, occurs by the 17th seven years out of 10. Wildflower foliage begins to appear; bulbs push up; buds swell on the trees; groundhogs and opossums become more active.

The February days with at least a 40 percent chance of highs only in the 20s or below are the 6th, 7th, 8th and 12th. The warmest days, those with a 30 percent chance of highs above 50, are the 15th, 18th, 19th, 21st, 22nd, 23rd and 28th. The 22nd is typically the warmest day of all, having a 50 percent chance of highs above 50 degrees.

The normal precipitation for February (in water equivalent) is 2.11 inches, the second lowest of the year. The wettest February days, those with at least a 50 percent chance of precipitation, are the 6th, 11th, 14th, 15th and 21st. Snow is most likely to fall on the 11th and 12th, and the 25th.

The driest February days, those that bring a 20 percent chance or less for precipitation, are the 7th, 8th, 10th and 20th. The percentage of possible sunshine increases 4 percent from that of January, up to 45 percent. The sunniest February days, those with at least a 60 percent chance of sun, are the 23rd, 26th, 27th and 28th. The days that have at least a 60 percent chance of clouds are the 6th, 11th, 14th, 16th, 17th, 19th, 21st, and 22nd.

Six to eight major banks of high pressure move across the Midwest this month. The first four February weather systems belong to the subseason of Late Winter, the last three to Early Spring. Frozen precipitation usually precedes these fronts except between the 17th and 23rd, when the amount of snow often decreases to November levels.

       

 The Natural Calendar

The Groundhog Day Thaw gets underway by the 1st of February as the last cold front of January moves east. Thunderstorms can make their appearance with that thaw, and the temperature of the earth sometimes surges well above 40 degrees, telling the pastures to start growing.

In the gentle, wet nights around Groundhog Day, you will catch the first whiff of spring skunk. In the daytime, you can pick new mint leaves in the woods, and find the pale Asian lady bugs emerging in the sun all around your house.

Robins and bluebirds arrived the last week of January. Now juncos are flocking all along the backroads, getting ready for their migration north. Sparrows are mating, and the great morning chorus that lasts deep into summer is well underway, the starlings whistling and chattering by a quarter to eight, the crows and cardinals and doves joining in. Male blue jays are bobbing up and down, talking to their mates.

By the 12th, the day’s length is a full hour longer than it was on December 26th, and the brighter afternoons tell the groundhogs and opossums that it’s mating time. Raccoons and skunks seek partners too, and the beavers are pairing off. Owls sit on their eggs, and horned larks migrate. Flies appear in the sunny corners of the barn.

Then on the 18th day of the year’s second month, the sun reaches a declination of 11 degrees, 53 minutes, the halfway point to equinox. The sun enters Pisces at the same time, and initiates the season of Early Spring, a six-week period of changeable conditions, infiltrated ever so slowly by warmer temperatures that finally bring the first trees and the early bulbs to bloom.

By the 19th, moss will be growing a little more on the old logs, and crocus, daffodil and tulip foliage will have pushed out above the mulch. Garlic planted in late November will be at least 6 inches tall. The first rhubarb leaves will be unfolding. Henbit can be blossoming in the alleys, skunk cabbage in the swamps, aconites and snowdrops in a yard or two.

These soft days of Early Spring tell Canadian geese, mallards, canvasback ducks and killdeer to check out sites for laying eggs. Jenny wrens are making nests, and the milder afternoons call out the moths and water striders. Earthworms become active again; any day now, you will see them crossing roads and sidewalks in the lukewarm rains.

Ragwort and dock grow back in the swamps during Early Spring. A few deep red peony stalks appear underneath the mulch. Then more yellow aconite, white snow drops and yellow and purple snow crocus bloom. Pussy willows open wide.

Then, the last week of the month, as the Moon wanes into its final quarter, along comes Snowdrop Winter Week, a time of meteorological ambivalence, promising hepatica, then backsliding.

First the warmth: The fifth major high-pressure system of February comes through on the 20th, but it is typically the weakest front of the month, and highs reach above 50 (and sometimes even 60) three days in 10, and another five in 10 are in the mild 40s. And this week brings the first day since November 28th that the chances for highs just in the 20s or teens falls to almost zero!

Then a step backward: Snowdrop Winter arrives on the 24th, often one of the windiest days of the month, and colder temperatures often return for up to 72 hours. Snow or sleet falls almost half the time, but this is the last week of winter that chances for frozen precipitation climb so high.

On the 26th, Snowdrop Winter starts to recede, and from that day forward, average temperatures swell one degree every 72 hours (instead of every 24 to 36 hours) until the second week of June, and each day now brings some visible, measurable rise in the fortunes of spring.

In the Field and Garden

It’s not too early to feed your bulbs with liquid fertilizer before major blooming time begins. Mardi Gras is Feb. 17. Consider advertising your lambs and kids to this barbeque market.

When the land is ready, worm livestock before turning them out to pasture. Mares show signs of estrus as the days grow longer. The last of the lambs and kids conceived in middle autumn are born.

Barometric changes can trigger flare-ups of arthritis in people and also in your pets and livestock. Add paprika mixed in molasses if you think an animal is suffering from joint pain.

When aconites bloom, then spread fertilizer in the field and garden so that it can work its way into the ground before planting. When maple sap runs, then prune house plants to encourage spring growth.

Countdown to Spring

• Just a few days until doves join the cardinals singing before dawn

• Two weeks until the first red-winged blackbirds arrive

• Two and a half weeks to the first snowdrop bloom and the official start of early spring – a time when maple sap season can begin at any moment

• Three weeks to major pussy willow emerging season

• Four weeks to crocus season and owl hatching time

• Five weeks to the beginning of the morning robin chorus before sunrise

• Six weeks to daffodil season and silver maple blooming season

Journal

One learns a landscape finally not by knowing the name or identity of everything in it, but by perceiving the relationships in it – like that between the sparrow and the twig. The difference between the relationships and the elements is the same as that between written history and a catalogue of events.

Barry Lopez

The flowering season has just barely begun, and one might take an early inventory of the land before momentum builds much more. The exact end of winter came well before the most recent thaws, arriving unseen in the coldest weeks of the year when the March and April bulbs followed their own subterranean schedules and pushed up beneath the snow.

The cardinals, titmice and doves noted the temporal shift, even though the weather was harsh and the landscape white. While the sun and birds are already well on their way to equinox, however, the vegetation that now appears across local yards and gardens has changed little in the past weeks; it easily becomes a definition of the fulcrum that balances winter on one side and spring on the other.

Walking through town on Valentine’s Day, I found that some daffodils were 2 inches high, and a few tulips and hyacinths were up at least an inch. Snowdrops, snow crocus and aconite were ready to bloom. Lilac buds were swollen, fat green and gold. Even on the old pussy willow branches, a few catkins were cracking. Garlic mustard, wild mallow and henbit were growing new leaves. A monarda patch showed half-inch foliage. Chickweed, wild strawberry, celandine, wild onion, hollyhock, sweet William, lamb’s ear, lungwort, dandelion, motherwort, and great mullein had remained intact from fall and were waiting for a little more sun.

Spring, of course, is as much a state of mind as a state of nature. The beauty of a seasonal inventory is that there is never a correct number of things to find. The end of winter always appears in the eye of the beholder. Critical mass for the arrival of spring rests less on the total quantity of observations than on one crucial scent or sight or sound that tips the scales of private time. Each person encounters that pivotal event at a different moment and in a different way. Whenever that realization does occur (for Barry Lopez – when the relationship is formed), then the entire scaffolding of the old year collapses and all the pieces of the new year take on meaning as they fall into place.