*This article is intended for the winter issue of the Singing Sands
Almanac (the park newspaper). The intended audience will be the general
public.*

The First Snowfall

Something drew me into the forest that day. It wasn't the chill December
air and certainly not the biting wind that randomly grabbed at my bones.
Maybe it was the "full" day at work or simply a deeper need to visit the
ever-peaceful woods. At any rate, I left the Kemil Beach parking lot in
Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore and started hiking up the mile-long
Dune Ridge Trail.

I hadn't gone a hundred yards when I came upon a forgotten amphitheater
of wooden benches that faced into the gray, dark forest. I paused to
clear my mind on the front middle row of benches. Best seat in the
house! It was right then and there that it happened.

A tiny frozen flake descended to the carpeting of burnt orange oak
leaves. It was time. They began falling from above, casually covering
the world below. The local area had already received a few dustings of
snow, but this was the commencement of the first significant covering.
It was the kind of snowfall where thick, fluffy white puffs drop at the
same speed all around you as if your world is slowly rising or the
powdery sky falling. For me there is always a moment of complete peace
as this natural phenomenon occurs.

Brushing the fresh snow from my sleeves, I shook off this wonderful
moment and glanced deep into the woods wondering what this snowfall
would mean for the plants and animals. For most of the ground plants,
their energy has already been packed with their identity into wee pods
of life -- seeds \-- that will wait patiently under months of snow to
spring forth in their turn at life in the dunes. The last leaf has
already drifted groundward signaling that the tree is ready to begin the
challenge of balancing food use versus food storage through the season
of limited sunlight. The final scoop of dirt has hit the forest floor as
the striped skunk completes its underground den renovation for a
winter's rest. The white-tailed deer glance upward as their food source
changes from snow-covered herbaceous ground plants and nuts to limited
tree buds and bark. Some animals might face a brief moment of panic
wondering if they have stored enough seeds to eat, or cached enough
acorns, or built up enough fat reserves to winter through. As the snow
descends, the struggle to survive the uncompromising cold season begins
and will not end for months. Will they make it?

As I stroll further along the trail and up the wooded ridgeline, I take
a closer look at each remaining sign of life \-- an animal track, a
squirrel\'s nest or dray, the half-covered, withered plants. The timing
and depth of this snowfall will directly affect plant and animal
populations in coming seasons. An early, deep snow cover will decrease
animal populations for the lack of plants to eat, but a late, mild snow
cover will decrease some plant populations for they remain vulnerable to
animals eating more of them. We realize it's natural. This balance of
life has been happening for millions of years. I still root for the life
and perseverance of all, but I know that's not how it all works out.

As I leave the forest it is still snowing hard. Everything is taking on
that frosting covered whiteness that looks like a scene on a greeting
card. Now the lonesome Dune Ridge Trail is waiting for others, like you,
to experience the harsh yet peaceful beauty of winter. Take relief and
satisfaction knowing that the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore exists as
a place where the balance of nature can bring stability to our lives.
This first snowfall has meant something different to everyone and
everything it touches.

*By Aaron Grimes -- Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore*