During the winter I’ve always felt kind of sorry for those that live south of me. Drive 2 hours from my place and you’ll end up in the heart of the Adirondack Park surrounded by the high peaks. ‘Down’ there you better be ready for a Donner Party.

Maybe it’s not just the 1,200 foot difference in elevation that moderates my climate. Lake Ontario is only a little over an hour to the west. The lake definitely effects the immediate area around it. Lake effect snow often closes Interstate 81 between Syracuse and Watertown. By the time the weather gets here most of the snow has already been dumped and often times never does make it this far. But I do think the warming effect of the lake moderates the temps if only just a little bit.

After the last couple winters my sympathies are going a lot farther south. It almost seems like the country has been turned upside down. My winters are getting milder as the cold and snow follows the snowbirds ever farther south each year. We’ve missed most of the big winter storms that have hammered the country the last couple of years. This time we caught some of it. Only a foot of snow fell but it’s enough added to what was already on the ground to snow bound the dog and I. Our daily hikes are limited to the road now. Pook refuses to walk through snow that’s up to her chin.

The wind swept some of the precipitation away from my snow gauge so it’s reading a little low. There’s about 2 feet of snow keeping us out of the woods.

I did manage to plow my way through the snow to an old apple tree in the backyard.

How do ya like dem apples?

The deer would, if only they could reach that high.

A chickadee picking at some sumac was the only wildlife I saw today.

So, we’re not exactly snow bound and I was still able to get the last couple of photos from the road. But if I want to go to the woods I’ll either have to go alone or teach the dog how to use snowshoes. She has more sense than me so it should be easy.

The Oswegatchie River in the village of Rensselaer Falls – Jan. 29, 2011. Please bare with me. Today’s post contains 16 photos so it may be slow loading.

Looking up river from Fireball Hartman’s ‘mill’. The old dam looks like a perfectly level snow drift across the river. At the far left is the discharge from the old canal that runs up to the Upper and Lower Lakes Wildlife Refuge.

The mill’s stone walls have stood the test of time. Water once flowed under the arch, these days it just seeps when not fozen.

The old canal seen from the bridge over the Oswegatchie River.

Looking towards the end of the long ‘island’.

Guess how the Village of Rensselear Falls got the falls in it’s name.

The Oswegatchie River like others in St. Lawrence County, northern NY flows out of the Adirondack Mountains on their way to the St. Lawrence River. Small falls like this one is a common sight around here.

Looking downriver from the falls you can just make out the old dam in the photo. On the right of the dam is an old stone structure. And no, I have no idea what is was.

A closer look at a rock outcrop entending into the river.

Zooming in on the tip of the ice shelf reveals the icicles hanging from it.

One great thing about winter cold is the way it adds character to a simple little waterfall.

I wasn’t the only one to walk on the ice shelf that ran along the river bank. I normally don’t walk on river ice because you can never tell where the current creates thin ice. But I know the river here is only a couple inches deep and the only thing I risked was getting a hot foot. A slightly better view of the stone structure at the end of the dam can also be seen in this photo.

Farther down the river I came across a hole in the ice.

River icicles hung hidden beneath the ice.

A number of ice sheets clung on rocks in the river. This is one of many I photographed today.

Finally, I was able to sneak close enough to something to get a decent photo or two. Sorry Pook, I didn’t miss your barging ahead and scaring the wildlife.

There was a gaggle of Canadian Geese hanging out at the mill. Once I reached the end of the island I crossed the canal and climbed the steep bank to get these goose pics.

Ouch, I got spotted. Goodbye geese.

Another day, another walk down to the Grasse River. Only this time dog and I went in a different direction and headed to the beaver pond (swamp). I was a bit surprised to only see 3 deer along the way.

See them? If you look really really hard you might make them out.

Cropping the photo to display one small section revels what stands hidden on the other side of the treeline between the fields. I was a bit surprised not to see any other wildlife along our way to the river.

The last field we crossed was the previous year’s free lunch buffet for the wildlife. The corn was not harvested last fall and provided plenty of good eating for the deer and turkeys. This year the field was left fallow and abandoned by all but the weeds. At this point dog and I took a hard left and headed toward the river.

Nope, this is not the Grasse River. It is actually a beaver pond (swamp) that few ever see. The dam lies in the distance at the far end. We crossed at the shallow end. If I was going to break through the ice I was going to make sure I only got my feet wet.

Looking towards the river. The beaver pond lies hidden behind that river bank. If you canoed down the river you would never suspect such a large pond/swamp was back there.

Looking back in the direction we came from. The fallow field is behind the ‘dip’ in the tree line. There’s about a 20 foot drop from the field to the water (ice) line.

A section of ‘high’ ground about 200 feet wide separates the river from the swamp. Once we got to the river we followed it upstream just a little ways to where I took this photo of a farm on the opposite side.

Another view across the frozen Grasse River a bit farther upstream. Something caught my eye at that point. No – it wasn’t the deer tracks on the river ice nor the farm peeking through the brush. It was movement, and by now you should be able to guess what I’m going to feed ya.

Bet ya didn’t see the turkeys in the photo above. Let me zoom in for ya.

We crossed the largest of the corn fields on the way home. The sun was out but it couldn’t burn it’s way through the overcast.