Winter stories written in snow

Winter stories written in snow

Away from the lakes, Vilas County’s forests take on a different character in winter. Snowshoe and cross-country ski tracks weave through the pines of the Northern Highland–American Legion State Forest, where silence is broken only by the wingbeat of a raven or the tapping of a woodpecker. Fresh snow tells its own story with deer moving between feeding areas, fox hunting along forest edges, and the looping trail of an otter near open water. Songbirds congregate at feeders while squirrels busily bury nuts and seeds that, as we all know, they will never find again.

Fresh snowfall acts like a notebook, recording everything that passed through during the night. Deer trails crisscross forests and frozen wetlands as whitetails move between feeding and bedding areas. Their tracks often follow the same routes year after year, conserving energy during the coldest months. In deep snow, deer gather in sheltered areas known as yards where dense conifers offer protection from wind and predators. Those same evergreens create stunning photo opportunities on frosty winter mornings. Winter is here, and it is beautiful.

Winter wildlife viewing in Vilas County is not about guaranteed sightings. It is about noticing details, tracks, sounds, and movement, and understanding how animals adapt to a season that demands efficiency and resilience.

Cold weather places constant pressure on birds to find food. Short days and long nights mean they must eat frequently to maintain body heat. Backyard feeders help supplement natural food sources buried beneath snow or locked in ice. While feeding birds will not replace their instinct to forage, it can make a meaningful difference during extreme cold snaps.

For many residents, feeding birds is as much a part of winter as shoveling snow or stacking firewood. When natural food becomes scarce, feeders provide a welcome stop for chickadees, nuthatches, woodpeckers, finches, and occasional visitors like pine grosbeaks or redpolls. A simple feeder outside a kitchen window can turn a long winter day into a front row seat to constant activity. When hanging feeders, remember that DNR guidelines recommend placing them at least six feet off the ground, and it is always wise to check local ordinances.

Black oil sunflower seed remains a staple, offering high energy for birds working hard to stay warm. Suet blocks are especially important during cold snaps, attracting woodpeckers and other insect-eating birds that rely on fat to survive frigid nights. Many locals keep feeders clean and consistent, knowing that once birds depend on a food source, regular refilling can make a real difference.

Bird feeding is more than a pastime. It is a connection to the season. Watching birds fluff their feathers against the cold or dart between feeders reminds us of the resilience built into the North Woods. For children and adults alike, identifying winter species and tracking daily visitors becomes a quiet tradition that marks the passage of the long season.

My son has even named a few of the squirrels that visit daily, along with the big boss blue jays that frequent the feeder. If you watch closely, you will notice there is often a leader in the flock, the one calling the shots, so to speak. Then there are the acrobatic nuthatches, happily hanging upside down while eating, and the black-capped chickadees, my personal favorite, with their familiar dee dee dee call. In chickadee language, the more dees you hear, the greater the danger, a warning system that helps establish dominance and rank within the flock during winter.

I am not sure about you, but I enjoy a cup of coffee on a quiet Sunday morning while watching the steady parade of birds at the feeder. That includes Mr. Gray Squirrel, carefully calculating the proper angle and distance for his leap to seed heaven. When two squirrels show up, it is always entertaining to see who claims dominance and whether anything is left behind for the other.

In the quiet months, the North Woods tells its story softly. Those who listen closely discover that winter is anything but empty.