I love snow. I like what it does to the landscape, forcing one to reassess one’s relationship to what we’re used to seeing. But most of all it is the change in acoustics. As a child, waking in the early morning after a snowfall, but with curtains still drawn, I knew immediately there had been a snow fall: it was a muffled world, with the occasional distant sound of a bird call or a human voice piercing the stillness. Walking in fresh, heavy snow is such a sensory delight - with the air, sharp and clean and the crunch of footsteps as it compacts the snow amid an otherwise silent world. I used to get up immediately and go out into the fields to walk before anyone else was around …. it was like discovering a new land.
Anyway, here’s a little ‘gallery’ to celebrate:
I have a tradition of making a snowman when we do have snow - an activity that causes some bemusement amongst our neighbours: “why would he want to do that - what’s the point?”; “is this ‘an English thing’ ?”; “do you think he’s alright?”. Of course, I just say it is to send photos to the grandchildren …. which of course it is - but it is also to make a point to myself that I still like doing it. This year was no exception - but we had noticed that Graycie the Cat, in her discerning and thoughtful way, is usually quite interested by snow, once she has got over the immediate sensory experience:
It is actually quite tricky, as one has to build the four legs and then make the body and place that on to the legs ….. and the head, with as delicate ears as possible, has to be on the end of the body (of course ….!) and tends to fall off. However, after a couple of hours the ‘snowcat’ was complete and was quite a size as 'snowcats' go:
The snow lasted for a few days and gradually the ‘snowcat’ grew slimmer and slimmer, as snowcats do.
Since the snow disappeared, we have had a mixture of weather - some very warm days, with temperatures in the lower 20’s; but then a lot of rain and temperatures falling back down to zero. But whilst one has to look more closely and in different ways, January and February, so often characterised as ‘grim’ and ‘dull’, can provide true visual interest:
In the garden, the short spells of warm weather have been enough to encourage Spring flowers to emerge, in amongst the Winter stalwarts - a mixture of open display and quiet discretion. During some afternoons, on the south side of the house, the lizards have started to race around the walls, diving into the cracks in the stone - and Graycie the Cat is always in hope of catching one, but is usually thwarted:
And what of the wildlife? Well, one particularly noticeable phenomena has been the number of bumblebees that have appeared on the warm days we’ve had. We are used to a reasonable number of bumblebees in late Winter making an appearance, but this year there are very large numbers. We’re assuming it is because the average temperatures have remained high (although we have had that snow, there have been no frosts to speak of or sustained temperatures below zero). We do not know if this will result in more colonies surviving the Winter, as well as the newly-mated queens. We are not knowledgeable enough to know if the bumblebees are mainly Bombus terrestris (Winter Active Bumblebees).
Other birds in the garden are the usual ones we see at this time of year - in good numbers, encouraged by the regular feeding we’ve provided in a rather more organised way than usual. We have seen more jays than is usually the case - flapping around and screeching in their habitually raucous way - we have called the thick hedging at the bottom, west-side, of the garden the ‘House of Commons’. There have also been regular visits by green woodpeckers, hopping along the ground, rooting up the turf and making a suprising mess of the soft and muddy earth. Of course, what we have really been looking out for is ‘our kestrels’ …. and we are still have daily sight of three or four of them, within a kilometre or so of the garden. Last year’s nesting place is ready and waiting for them! We also regularly see a hobby, hovering and manoevering alongside the hedges at the bottom of the garden. So, we await to see what Spring will bring.
In my last Blog post, I commented on how beset we feel we are with the ‘newsfeeds of the world’.
This month I have been diagnosed with a serious heart conditiion, requiring urgent action. Unexpected, as I was not looking in that direction. I am fortunate enough not only to have had that diagnosed, but to be in a circumstance where the ‘system’ and, ultimately, a skilled team of people are going to do something helpful for me.
Aware that I will need to adjust the way that I live, I have been considering how to make a start. I've decided that a wise start would be to stop trying to actualise ideals, otherwise I shall have no time for much needed composure. So, let's see how that goes.
We do hope that Spring has warmth and colour for you.
p.s. ……. just as I finish this, I have had a real laugh: the app I use to write these Blogs has just offered me assistance in expressing the emotions I have been trying to convey. The bright yellow and red emoji it proposes is just perfect ……. far too equisite for me to waste on this page.
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