It Started Off Bleak, But What A Beautiful And Mild Day To End January.

It Started Off Bleak, But What A Beautiful And Mild Day To End January.

Railroad hike (22 of 31)
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It was another mild, for January,  day here in Northeastern Pennsylvania. Temperature was 32 degrees this morning, well above our average low of around 17 degrees. No complaints from me. It was overcast and very Wintery looking despite the mild temperature but not a bad day for a hike out the railroad tracks near my house.Railroad hike (3 of 31)

There is still a pretty deep snow cover so I was glad to find some four wheel drive and quad tracks to follow along the railroad track.Railroad hike (9 of 31)

I walked out through the paths we used to sled down and past the old ice skating ponds to the railroad tracks and walked west.  Lot of memories out here. We would have plenty of Winter fun climbing the old slate banks, culm piles and strip mines. We ice skated on the ponds and played hockey with sticks and cans. Good days they were.Railroad hike (1 of 31)

The old strip mines have been reclaimed and it looks much different than the days I roamed out here in my youth. I walked over the now waterless Cranberry Creek. Once a roaring stream it’s waters now flow into the mines and out the famous Jeddo Tunnel.Railroad hike (7 of 31)

The only wildlife I saw on my walk were a couple of crows, a red tailed hawk and a few flocks of sparrows feeding on the remaining birch tree catkins.sparrow 2 (1 of 1)

I hiked out to the old ‘tower’ lines,now replaced with more modern  metal poles, and walked back under the gray wintery sky. It was hard walking through the ice and snow, even with the path cleared by the four wheel drive vehicles but it is still always nice to be outdoors, even in the Winter.  Hopefully, God willing, my next blog post will be from the Southern Hemisphere. Here is the link to some more photographs from my hike today. hike (25 of 31)


[W]hat a severe yet master artist old Winter is…. No longer the canvas and the pigments, but the marble and the chisel. ~John Burroughs, “The Snow-Walkers,”