The wind from the North, from the far Arctic reaches brought some snow to our part of the UK today.
We do pretty well to escape the worst excesses of typical wintry weather on the mid-eastern side of England and I think that today’s intermittent flurries were only the second throughout the whole of 2023.
It has been a welcome change to have normal seasonal temperatures after much of the autumn and winter so far having attained double figures.
That critical air temperature of 1 degree Celsius was persistent through the daylight hours today and the snow just kept coming, then quickly thawing or turning to slush before the process repeated itself with some regularity.
The light dusting of snow on pavements and parked vehicles was enough to remind me of some of my favourite jokes and stories from this seasonal weather.
One is about a conversation between an Eskimo father and his son whilst they are sitting around cosily in an ice block igloo away from the harsh chill of the winds and the relentless white-out of their natural environment.
It is quality time in which the senior member of an Eskimo family can pass down wisdom and practical advice learned the hard way and indeed carrying on the traditions and practices of a proud and resourceful race.
Story telling is a major part of the inheritance skills with the dramatic recounting of epic struggles against the elements and of course the wildlife who feature culturally and as an essential ingredient in the requirements of survival.
The Eskimo is not an aggressive character by nature as there is an essential co-existence with their fellow inhabitants as dictated by some of the most inhospitable and unforgiving terrain in the world. That is apart from having to be a ruthless hunter and to be prepared to make life or death decisions.
In the flickering light of a whale oil lantern (although in reality likely to be conventional lighting from a petrol generator) the father teaches his son about all manner of things that will prove useful in their chosen lifestyle.
I like to think that one piece of wisdom would be, of course, never eat yellow snow.
The igloo resonates from the booming of a deep winter storm.
Shadows flicker magically across the smooth dome of the ceiling and chase around its perimeter as has been the case for millenia. It is as if generations of ancestors are visiting at that time and partaking in the rituals and customs.
As the perpetual night above the Arctic Circle continues the teachings of the father come around to how a young Eskimo hunter should behave for his own honour and for that of his family and particular tribal group.
It is a case of self discipline, care of his own person and those who depend upon him when he himself becomes head of the igloo and main bread or rather blubber-winner.
The father delivers the lectures with humour and gravity as each subject demands but captures wholeheartedly the attention and concentration of his young protégé. As they bond in that igloo, representing the extent of their wintry world, the father imparts the greatest single piece of advice, that being to always be upstanding and fight your corner.
At that point and in a bit of a state of confusion the son looks enquires “What is a corner?”
Just one more.
The remotest habitats amongst Antarctica are now within the itinerary of tour companies who offer an educational cruise with on board tuition about that continent and time on the ice shelf itself.
There are climatologists, naturalists, ecologists and a whole host of experts on hand to answer any question from the guests.
On one landing party an elderly participant tried repeatedly to catch the attention of the guide, an expert on the creatures who inhabit Antarctica.
Eventually she managed to voice her query on the subject of the penguins in a large colony.
Could she ask what was the difference between the white penguins and the black penguins.
The expert gave it some careful thought before answering “the white penguins are walking towards you and………………”
No comments:
Post a Comment