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In winter, a marsh may appear empty and windblown - a silent, frozen wilderness devoid of life and sound. But is it really?
Wetlands In Winter 
Few venture into a marsh even in summer, but those willing to brave knee-high water and muck are rewarded when they find themselves in a lush environment teeming with colourful life, the air filled with a busy clatter of blended voices.
In winter, however, a marsh may appear empty and windblown. It often seems a silent, frozen wilderness devoid of life and sound. But is it really? Of course, the ducks, geese, swallows, blackbirds and bright-colored shorebirds have fled south, but most earthbound creatures, even though we can't see or hear them, remain all winter long.
Strangely enough, they often take refuge from winter's biting cold under the ice or knee-deep snow. That's because snow acts as an insulator, preventing heat loss from the ground. The temperature at ground level under several feet of snow may only be a few degrees below freezing even though winter air temperatures drop to -40C. It's a little quirk of nature without which many creatures wouldn't survive winter.
Frogs, salamanders and turtles disappear without a trace in the mud below the ice. But if you learn to read the signs, you'll see plenty of evidence of other animal life in a frozen marsh. The most obvious are often the large dome-shaped muskrat houses. In each, a muskrat family spends a snug winter, leaving only to swim silently below the ice and feed on shoots or starchy roots of marsh plants.
Look closely across the snow's surface and you'll see small holes scattered here and there. Many are the openings of air shafts connected to networks of snowy tunnels created by mice and other small mammals. At the ends of those tunnels are warm nests of soft plant material where the owners spend winter protected by a thick, snowy, blanket.
Of course some of the most revealing signs of marsh activity in winter are animal tracks on the surface of the snow. Careful observers will note the tracks of many creatures that take refuge from the winter wind in tall, dense marsh vegetation. Each species leaves a unique footprint laid out across the snow in a characteristic pattern. The print tells the size and shape of the feet, and the pattern tells if they hopped, scurried, ambled across the surface, or sunk deep into the snow and floundered with each bound. With these clues, and a little experience, snow-watchers can usually identify the animals that passed by.
Snow can even record a conflict, unravelling before your eyes a drama staged minutes, hours, days or even weeks before. A zig-zag trail ending abruptly at a small depression in the snow may signal a rabbit's failed attempt to elude a hunting owl.
Two small tracks, leading from a vent hole, and criss-crossing the snow reflect activity below the surface. They may record the last moments of a slender weasel's frantic pursuit through a snowy maze of tunnels and a small mouse's desperate dash up an air shaft and across the surface of the snow. One set of tracks leading away document the hapless mouse's fate.
Snow has played a significant role in adaptations of animals and birds in northern latitudes. For example, the broad, furry feet of a snowshoe hare allow it to hop across the surface without sinking. In winter, grouse grow strong, sharp scales on their feet which help them grasp ice-sheathed branches for the annual shift from ground-feeding to feeding on buds, catkins, and frozen fruit in shrubs and trees. The moose, perhaps the largest visitor to frequent a marsh, has long legs and a distinctive gait that allow it to get along well in marsh terrain in any season, deep snow included.
Whatever weather nature brings, each creature has its own response. Whether a species migrates, hibernates, adapts, or just survives the best way possible, snow is an influence to be reckoned with; an influence that can trip the balance of survival.
