Winter Shows Its Teeth

Just when we might have been getting a bit complacent, and hoping for a short lived, mild winter, it arrived in full force. Those early bits of snow, which we had at the start of the year, were nothing by comparison. Being a 'Brit Abroad' I seem to have developed a slight fascination with the weather. One of my first tasks each day, once we have finished the housework and sorted the animals out, is to log on and check out the weather forecast. So with my normal coffee, I had noticed that we had three days of snow to look forward to, as time moved on it became two days, and then back up to three again. So we could safely say that snow was expected, just not how much would fall. Then it arrived one evening, the first flakes dancing in the street light in the lane outside. The wind began to blow them into neat little piles, but nothing to get too concerned about. Those bits of snow from the start of the year had all but disappeared, and the frosts had frozen the ground, so this fresh stuff did start to pitch.

Throughout the night, and all through the next day the snow came down continuously. When we woke up, everything had a thick blanket of white laid across it. The dogs were quite eager to go out and play in it, the cats were a different matter. The snow was deeper than they are tall, but they seemed quite happy sitting on window sills, watching me dig yet another trench for them to get up under the barn. Sirius, our bad tempered sawn-off dog, was quite happy doing an impersonation of a snow plough. Nose down and trudge forward, clearing a path for Fenny and Polly. Their water trough was frozen, but fresh warm water soon took care of that. So with the animals sorted out, trenches dug, logs brought down, and the fires lit we could actually sort ourselves out. Well, we could have done but at that moment the power went out, and for the rest of the day it was on and then off again. Thermos flasks were filled with boiling water during some of the on times, and using the gas rings on the oven we managed to feed and water ourselves. Somewhere in the village a power line came down, and due to our location and the amount of snow no one could come out and fix it. Fortunately we were not one of the houses affected by this, unfortunately our village Kmet's house was.

So we have spent days with cats and dogs snoring and steaming in front of the fires. Which is fine, until I have to feed more logs onto the fire, and then they seem very reluctant to move. Once the fire is banked in again, the dogs want to go out and play in the snow again. Why can't they make this decision before I have to step all around them. So over a period of about 36 hours we had almost 2 feet of snow fall. If wasn't the dry powdery stuff, but the wet clumpy version. The type of snow which brings down branches, and possibly the power line too. Every couple of hours I was back outside clearing my trenches again. For those first 36 hours nothing moved in the village unless it was on foot.

Everything looked like a winter wonderland, with the surface of the snow largely unbroken. Since the snow finished falling we have had a couple of days of sunshine. So the snow has glistened and sparkled. It's own weight starting to compact it all down. We have even had a slight thaw, which has caused some of the snow on the roof to melt and drip from the eaves. This in turn leads to icicles forming, not so much the icicles of doom from previous years, more like the fangs of fate. They do look quite spectacular when the sun shines on them. I was going to get a photo of them today, but the sky has turned a pale grey, with no hint of sunshine.

The sunshine on the snow might make everything sparkle, and it might cause a slight thawing possible, but we also have the night time temperatures to take into account. Where things have melted on the paths and other trenches, and then refrozen overnight we now have our own skating rinks, -19C seems to have that effect. So these paths and trenches have now been dusted with ash from the fires. That might give some extra grip, but it does mean that there is an increase in grubby footprints being trailed indoors. Taps are left dripping overnight, to help prevent frozen pipes. Anything with a rechargeable battery has been boosted, mainly because we never know when the next power cut might happen. Torches and candles have been dotted round the house.

It looks like we have to wait until the middle, or end, of next week for those night time temperatures to start to creep back up again. Although things have been a wee bit parky, we haven't managed to break any records yet. Mind you, we do still have February to look forward too. Even though a tractor has been round the village with a plough blade on I have no idea what the main roads are like. Maybe I will have to make one of my winter forays into town on the village bus next week, but much can change in the space of a week.

   

Village Sounds

I always used to think that village life would be quiet and peaceful. However, the longer that we have lived here, the less I find that that is the case. You just have to stop and listen, and you will soon hear that it is not quite as quiet as you might imagine. I am not complaining, as the majority of sounds are made by nature, rather than by mankind. If you will bear with me I will take you through an average day, starting with the sun just rising. As we are in a rural setting we have plenty of woodland and lakes surrounding us, so the village is a constant hive of activity for bird life amongst other things. Now that the weather is warming up, each day is greeted with the dawn chorus, rather than the birds being huddled up in their nests, coughing and sneezing.

It doesn't take long for the various Cockerels to start crowing, and as soon as one starts another one tries to outdo it. They carry on throughout the day, as they try and keep an eye on their gaggle of hens. Then there are the various Geese, Ducks and Turkeys which have also been roused into wakefulness. Occasionally you can also hear the odd Pheasant or two, coughing away at the edges of the village. The villagers are soon up and about, sorting out their livestock, and getting children ready to meet the school bus. The children must still be half asleep as I never hear them first thing in the morning. Dogs soon begin to appear on the village streets, I can only assume that they belong to people as come the evening they have all disappeared again.

The morning continues to warm up, and goats and sheep are taken to the shepherds who then take these larger flocks out to various bits of pasture. I am always amazed when they return, as they all know where they live once they get back into the village. People just stand at their gates to hold them open as their animals return. There are no barking dogs, no shouting, just the gentle clanking and clonking of various bells. Every so often one adventurous goat might take a fancy to a choice bit of vegetation, but a stern "Haide" and they are off to catch the others up on their return journey home.

Once the livestock, and children, have been sorted out people can then start on their own daily bits and pieces. More often than not this will involve tending their gardens. So above the hum and drone of bees visiting flower beds and blossom, you might hear the odd word or two or a radio being played. What we do often hear though are two shy visitors. Every so often you might see a flash of yellow flying between trees, this will be the Golden Oriole, but it has a very melodic call. The other is the Cuckoo, definitely not so melodic, but always a pleasure to hear, even if it is bad at telling the time. Whoever heard of 27 o'clock? Some villagers don't seem to have a working volume control, and any conversation is carried out at one level, loud. I am sure that these could hold a conversation between them selves from one end of the village to the other.

If there is work to be done in the fields, old asthmatic tractors are fired up and off they chug. There are a couple of newer ones, but the old faithfuls do keep going, even if they do look like they are held together with bits of wire and recycled bits. Nothing seems to be wasted, even if it can no longer be used for its intended purpose, it will be given a new lease of life when it becomes incorporated into something else. Eventually even old tractors have to die, but some of their parts still live on. There always seems to be someone tinkering away, elbow deep in the guts of an old tractor. So rather than everything having a use, it seems as though everything has a multitude of uses, it all depends on how far along the timescale it has got.

We often get wood lorries growling their way through the village. Many appear to be ex-military, and have definitely seen better days. Like the old tractors they keep on going, often only on a wing and a prayer. Then there are the recycled rotavators, which will putter along, towing a trailer. It might be quicker to walk, but in the Summer heat no one wants to rush anywhere. The quietest time in the village seems to be between 1 and 4 in the afternoon, which coincides with the hottest part of the day. We are often sat up under the barn then, reading and just letting the sounds of nature wash over us.

Life seems to pick up a notch with the imminent return of the school bus. Parents and Grandparents go to meet the youngsters, and take the opportunity to sit and have a natter and catch up with each other. Pretty much the same the world over, although what happened in EastEnders, Coronation Street, or Britain's Got Talent might not feature highly on the list of village interests. Its nice to hear the children playing, laughing and shouting when they get off of the bus. At least here children are allowed to be children, and once they have done their chores they are allowed out to play again. They seem to do whatever homework they have in the early evening, before turning in for the night.

As the sun sinks lower on the horizon the chorus of Blackbirds, Starlings and Sparrows picks up from where it left off in the morning. The Swifts, Swallows and Martins do their bit for mankind by eating as many mosquitoes, gnats and midges that they can before calling it a night. The fading light doesn't mean that there is a cessation of noise however. It just gets passed on to something else. Often I seem to be followed by a cloud of whining, biting bugs as I finish off watering the garden, so there are the slaps accompanied by vaguely muttered swear words. We also get a Jay which sits up in one of the Walnut trees laughing at me, if I get my hands on it it won't be laughing any more.

The warmer weather has woken up a numerous amount of field crickets, much to the cats enjoyment as they seem to feel that they need to be hunted. From the remaining crickets there is that constant chirruping in the background. In a few weeks time they will be joined by the tree frogs. Sometimes it sounds almost tropical living here, thankfully we don't have quite so many nasty beasties living here.

After having eaten their fill of crickets our cats seem full of energy, and will play fight between themselves. Heaven help any strange cat which dares to venture into their garden, as they will gang up on it and have a full on scrap. The cats fighting will even drown out the sound of the local frog and toad population. From around the lakes, and beside the stream they can be heard, croaking, booming and chuckling. This will carry on throughout the night, and at times it sounds like a constant hum, similar to what you used to hear if you stood beneath a power pylon.

Finally, you can lull yourself  off to sleep by listening to various Bats, Owls and Nightingales. During the Spring and Autumn we sometimes hear Foxes having a nose round the village. It is easy to trace their path, as the sound of village dogs barking follows them. Then in the Winter there are the Jackals up in the woods, the colder the Winter the closer they will come to the village.

Maybe with Paisii being in a small valley up on top of the hills, sounds might be a little more enclosed and tend to echo a little, but if you listen it is always full of life. This village life certainly might not be as quiet as I once imagined it, but I wouldn't want to swap it.