Issue #88 An Ode to Winter
On the magical properties of snow, living in Japan's frozen north and photos from our recent snowy hikes
What a wonderful week or so of wintry weather we’ve been having here, with a covering of snow and every single thing encrusted with ice crystals which glimmer and shine in the low winter sun as it wheels lazily just above the horizon. I do so love the snow, the precious fleeting gift of winter that allows us to see the world anew - the landscape and everything within made momentarily magical.
For a time snow and ice afford us a glimpse into Nature’s secret workings; drifts of snow and patterns on the surface trace echos of the wind; footprints of the smallest scurrying creatures are made visible, indentations on the soft snow show us the exact moment a crow took flight, the tips of it’s feathers just glancing the surface as it lifts into the air; a frozen beck or waterfall captures the flowing motion of water, each solidified ripple a moment in time paused.
Snow is also particularly good at hiding from view the scars inflicted upon the land, covered in a soft blanket of white that lets us believe for a short while that all is good and right.
If there is a downside to a life dedicated to the study of Nature, it is the curse of seeing the harm we have caused to the earth with great clarity. The awareness of what makes healthy ecosystems, and the knowledge that so few exist unscathed. I get a great deal of joy from hiking in the mountains and valleys, but it is hard to ignore the damage I see on almost every hike: The overgrazed fells bereft of plant-life, the bleak monoculture of forestry plantations, the invasive species that slowly creep unchecked into the few refuges for wild life that remain, the soil churned up by machinery and unnatural densities of hoofed beasts, a hedgerow flailed, a tree hacked down, a hillside burned or a bog drained. For a short time, snow covers these ills or at least distracts the eye away from them, leaving the mind to focus on Nature’s blessings. All the litter is covered, the hard and sharp edges that are the hallmarks of human activity are softened and artificial boundaries between habitats are hidden.
The curse is lifted.
I do not remember when snow and ice first worked its magic on me. I have my Dad to thank I think. Ever since I was a child I have loved it. Later on in life, the mountains drew me to their snow covered slopes so I could slide down them, drawing lines in soft powdery snow in pursuit of joy. I did find a kind of joy in the thrill of snowboarding, but I think in hindsight it was really the mountain landscape and the wonders of winter that were so captivating.
Eventually, the quest for snow led me and Emma to the far north of Japan, and the island of Hokkaido where we lived for a while in a small town at the foot of the mountains. With regular daytime temperatures in the minus twenties and a snow season that started in October and ended in May it was a winter paradise. Most days we had to shovel our way out of the house - a metre of snow could fall overnight. Houses that didn’t have their roofs periodically swept collapsed under the weight of the snow. On a few occasions it was so intensely cold that all moisture vapour froze, turning to iridescent ice crystals which floated gently through the air like stars shimmering in the daylight. It was the only time I have ever felt my nostril hairs freeze.
Having lived somewhere with a winter so sublime, it is not easy coping with the irregular winter weather patterns of the UK. More often mild and wet than cold and frosty. But when the snow and ice does come, it is an opportunity to be grasped; plans are cancelled and work is rearranged so Nature’s frosty work can be enjoyed to the fullest. This is why I have aways chosen to work for myself - a day spent surfing, hiking or making the most of snow days is of far more value to me than my daily rate.
Luckily these days much of my work is done outdoors, and it is no great hardship to spend the day working in the woods in the snow. The mountains were far too tempting this week however, and we sacrificed a day of woodland work for a hike to the summit of Middle Fell, just the two of us. Four or five times now we have been to the top of this little peak, which offers good rewards for modest effort, and we know it well, but it took on an entirely new persona in the snow with all tracks hidden and a boisterous wind chilling us to the core, yet not in a bad way, in a way that invigorated and revived our spirits. The mountains appear so much bigger when covered in snow don’t they? Their grandeur amplified, familiarity replaced with awe, and a touch of foreboding. Equally imposing and alluring.
The rest of the week we worked in the woods, feet crunching in the snow, making firewood and moving timber around whilst the ground was frozen solid, all the while getting easily distracted by the beautiful tiny feathers of ice on every twig and branch and the tops of the mountains, bright white in the distance.
Another snowy hike at the weekend, this time with Benji which meant snowball fights and building a snowman took precedence over getting the summit. A brutally cold wind combined with frequent drifts of deep snow that made walking almost impossible in some places and a deteriorating weather picture forced us to stop short of the top by about 200 metres. The summit is no big deal, being out and having fun is the goal, but next winter we vow to have crampons and ice axes to broaden our horizons on winter hikes. We threw a lot of snowballs on the way down - it is a joy to see Benji at home in the snow, enjoying every moment.
Is it the impermanence of snow that makes it so magical? Perhaps, but even so I wish it could stick around for a bit longer. Or that it would stop by more often. If there is one lasting influence from these snow events, its the reminder that we would be wise to organise our lives in pursuit of wonder instead of whatever else it is society demands of us to be busy doing, so that next time it snows we can drop everything and get out there to enjoy it…
Well, sadly it’s back to wind and grey and mild today - what a contrast to just 2 days ago! We are hoping for some more snow days before winter is through. Wherever you are, we hope you are managing to make the most of winter’s bounty. We’d love to hear how winter is treating you so far - is it cold where you are? Drop us a comment below and let us know.
Until next time, with warmest wishes,
Andrew, Emma and Benji
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This is such an insightful look at snow! I have a hard time imagining life in a place like Hokkaido. I saw snow here the other day, but it was impermanent, like you say. Gone in a little over a day or two.
Oh what a beautiful ode. I'd not thought of snow showing the hidden magic of nature, such a wonderful concept. And yes, it lays a calming blanket, hiding what we have done, but allowing us a moment of connection if we allow it rather than being scared of it.