January in the cold
And we thought the December snow was all there was
Heaps of fireworks started off the New Year here in the north against a grey, rainy sky as so many times before. We all knew that there was a snowstorm announced a couple of days later, but we probably all thought that the usual December weather would probably just continue like that in January, or that it would just be a spat of snow like what we experienced in early December, gone in a couple of days — how we were wrong. What was different was this January snowstorm that came directly from the east, right out of Siberia, and then changing tack thanks to the high-pressure area shifting towards the Arctic, with the winds now arriving from the north-east. The high pressure is slowly circling around all of Scandinavia, and we are now into the second week of sub-zero temperatures.
One of the only positives now at the end of the first week, apart from the snow, of course, is that the sun is out, and the night skies are clear, with all the stars shining clearly in the frosty night air.
For a couple of days, powder snow was falling day and night, the wind was fierce, up to half a metre of snow covered all surfaces. Then the wind died down and snowflakes fell instead of powder snow — but this was only after the schools had started again, so I trudged through high snow drifts to reach my grandson at the school with the wind and snow directly in my face. We had the wind at our backs on the way home, and he was happy to throw himself at every large snow drift on our way.
Further south from here in central Jutland, people got stuck in their cars, and motorways were closed, as was train traffic. Now most of the rails, motorways, roads, streets, and pavements have been cleared — or almost — but the sun has come out, and suddenly, this weekend, everything just looked lovely. We ventured out to our garden, outside the cleared roads, but others had been to see to their gardens and we managed to reach our garden without problems. I had kept thinking about the birds out there and how hungry they would be, so we were armed with extra bird feed as we ventured ahead.
The temperatures are down at — 7°C during the day and -17°C at night. The snow crunched under our feet walking into the garden, where everything was covered in hoarfrost. There was pristine snow almost everywhere except in the areas where the feeders had been placed. There, the snow had the clear imprint of hundreds of bird feet. One of the other surprises was the spider webs that suddenly stood out covered in hoar frost.
I walked around to check on the various areas to see that all was fine despite frost and snow, just found a couple of holes, clearly dug by hares or deer, probably looking for my precious tulip bulbs, but the soil had clearly been too frozen for them to go deep. I then collected the various bird feed containers and added handfuls of almonds on the ground and in beds for those hungry rooks, blackbirds, the hares, and deer.
In weather like this, it is indispensable to wear gloves, and then the containers were filled, generously, and the fat balls were placed on tree branches — I had found some good ones, made around large pine cones, and some formed as long sticks with meal worms and seeds, ready to hang on the trees. I had also brought some red apples, fixed with twine and now adorning the spruce.
The one thing I cannot provide is fresh water as all our containers are deep frozen, so I hope the birds can make do with the most generous amounts of snow all around. Bringing fresh water would be completely in vain — it would be frozen before we had finished pouring it into bowls.
The large beds at the end of the garden now have a generous spread of almonds. The oregano and thyme in one of the small beds had almost disappeared below the snow, but their dried flowers were above the snow, with their seeds also available to the birds. The lavenders and strawberry plants were nowhere to be seen in the octagonal beds.
Afterwards, we decided that hot chocolate would do us good so went up to the Lindholm Heights where there is an excellent restaurant next to the museum dedicated to the large area of Iron and Viking Age tombs — and my grandson enjoyed the hilly landscape, going downhill on his bum, yelling with joy.
I managed to catch the sunset before we went back home. There is still another week of winter joy ahead of us.
