Snow, anyone?

I never realized before this morning how difficult it is to drive in the dark on uncleared snowy roads. But now I know. It's tough. Especially the uncleared snowy road part. It's amazing I made it to work at all, much less on time, what with missing a turn out on the freeway because I couldn't tell where the turn-out actually was, and then having to cut back throught the next town, where I attempted to find my way to a certain roundabout, only managing to realize where said roundabout was about half a block after passing it by. Good thing this was all before 7 in the morning, so no traffic to add to my confusion. Or maybe it would have been better with some more cars to follow.

The strange thing was the timing of the snow. When I got back from my weekend getaway at close to midnight yesterday, it wasn't snowing at all. This morning, it had clearly snowed a lot, big white fluffy drifts on the street and all the cars. As I was quickly pushing the snow off of the windows of my car before setting off, I found myself in a sudden flurry. Which made finding the right roads all the more difficult. However, after several minutes of driving (and finding my way back to the road I should have been on in the first place), it seemed not to be snowing at all anymore. The closer I got to work, the less evidence of snow there was...at work, there were just a few traces of snow on the grassy areas, nothing more. Which isn't surprising, as I did travel a bit to get there. However, when I got back home, about 4 hours after having left, there was no evidence of any snow having been here, either. Not even on the grass. Not even on the roofs. It looked like maybe it had just been raining a bit. Leaving me to wonder, was it just my imagination all along?

Darkness is just an absence of...?

This is a view out the window about 20 minutes ago, which is to say about 20 minutes before 5 in the afternoon. It could have been taken at midnight. It will stay this dark until well after 7 tomorrow morning. And the days will keep getting shorter and shorter for several more weeks. Something is seriously wrong with this latitude. Anyone looking for a reason to not move to Northern Europe, here you go.

An open letter to the Danish weather gods

Greetings, with humble apologies for intruding upon the time of your holy holinesses: I am but a mere mortal, and a stranger to your abode, and yet I feel I must speak.

Salutations shall be yours for that glorious month of July of which I have heard so much. Though I passed that wonderous time in parts far away, and though your brethren Portuguese weather gods are also mighty and good, the tales of your particular Summer beneficence are reknowned and will live on in the hearts of your people. Of August also have legends already begun.

Praise be for the week of warm rain which greeted my homecoming, proof both of your greatness, and of the folly of my long absence from your realm. Blessed were the months of September and October, for their benign magnificence, where you quashed the three conjoined demons, cold, rain, and dark to give your loyal populace respite from the harsh times which have always been a part of the heavenly existence which you have created.

The holy month of November is now upon us, and it is here that protestations must be given to your eminences. You are great, you are good, and your blessings are eternal. Salutations are offered for the manner in which you change the seasons slowly, shortening each day, and refreshing each night. Reverence is given to your cyclical nature.

Yet, I fear the time for snow should not yet have arisen. Lamentations are given, together with sacrificial leverpostej, sild, and snaps, in order that the snow shall be no more during this blessed November month. I bow at the feet of your majesties, and tremble, afraid that this, my deepest desire shall be as a threat in Thine eyes. Let the white flaky coldness lift from the land, and let the people rejoice by your grace.

Springtime in Denmark

The most beautiful things never photograph. But that doesn't stop me from trying. Happy June!

Come here little Spring...that's a good Spring!

A 'secluded' spot to one side of a busy motorway
A view of my favorite lakes

Winter in Denmark: really cold, and sometimes snowy.
Spring in Denmark: not so cold, and often rainy.

The color of the Danish Winter: grey. Light grey when the sun strikes new-fallen snow.
The color of the Danish Spring: grey. Slightly darker grey when it rains.

So has Spring really arrived? I believe so. I think so. I hope so!

The train station of the supernatural

I have just survived an amazing happening. Oh, everything is normal now, but just an hour or so ago, the world around me vanished and I was transported seamlessly into a parallel universe. No really.

I was at a rather large, busy commuter train station out in the burbs of Copenhagen (Høje Taastrup, for what it's worth) ready to go from work into the city to do more work. The station seemed totally normal. The platforms were there, with their little tv screens telling where the next train would be going, and when it would be going there. The ticket machines, the station convenience store, my fellow travellers. All was as it should be. Except. Except...in this parallel universe there were no trains. At all. In any direction. All the tracks (and there were several) were spookily empty. For at least 15 minutes. Where did they go?! And then, finally, a train arrived, and I realized that I must have been transported back to the universe that I usually inhabit.

There are those in Denmark who will blame this twist in the train station space-time continuum on the snow. But I don't believe that. As I see it, when all the trains are late (as they seemed to be, judging by the information given on the little tv screens), the wait for a train should be the same as normal...instead of waiting to catch your train which is late, you catch the next earlier train which wasn't there earlier because all the trains are running late. Simple logic really.

I know, wishful thinking. I grew up in Northern California, where we didn't have snow, but where, when it rained, everyone would simply forget how to drive, and just leave their cars in the middle of the freeway. (Perhaps I exaggerate, but not as much as you might hope). It would drive (no pun intended) Midwestern transplants I've met mad, and left me with the idea that we were the only ones who couldn't deal with the weather. After all, it rains every year. You'd think we'd get used to it. In Portugal it was a bit the same.

In London, the underground gets closed for anything. A leaf on the track has closed a line before, which sounds like an urban myth, but I think is actual historically documented fact. When there's snow, which is only a few days a year, there are always problems. And what do people say? There is snow every year, so why should they be surprised? You'd think they'd get used to it. In Denmark, there is more snow than in London, and whenever there is snow, especially the first couple of days after a snowfall, there are major transportation problems. And guess what people say...there is snow every year. You'd think they'd get used to it. 'Hvor svært kan det være?' - 'How hard can it be?'

As I continue my journey Northward through Europe, I eagerly await the time when I find the country which has 'gotten used to' winter weather. But does that country exist in reality, or only in another parallel universe? I await response from any readers from colder climes; Finland, Siberia, maybe Greenland. Do your trains run on time on the first day(s) of snow? Because ours sure don't, and I'm getting a bit tired of waiting outside in the cold.

Seasonally inappropriate HNT

Yes, I know. I'm cheating. I'm not half-nekkid. The ground isn't half-nekkid. In fact, absolutely nothing in this photograph is in any way half-nekkid.

However, it fits the weather. After a reasonably sunny and nice few weeks, today was gloomy, somewhat grey, a slight amount windy, and at one point really rainy. It's not that cold, and it's not snowing yet (and won't for a while - Copenhagen isn't that far North really)...but I can feel the colder darker times a-comin'.

So, this photo, taken last January during a hike in the woods behind where I live. In my defense, let me point out politely that we are all half-nekkid under our clothes.