The entire world, it seemed, was buried under two feet of snow. I was checking weather forecasts for days looking for a window of opportunity for a field trip. Yet, even the mighty Danube was frozen solid from bank to bank.
Eventually, I had to go, there was no point of hoping further for a day without fresh snowfall or wind. Disregarding the weather, the research methodology required an observer’s presence in the field every month.
We passed through a sleepy village, followed by a snowbound cemetery, and there we were, at the beginning of our transect. A straight line through a former flood-plain, now drained and cut off from the rivers by embankments.
The road mostly consists of very sticky black mud, but on that day it was only white. White as the surrounding fields, sometimes edged with reeds, sometimes without any markings. The snow was falling, the wind carried both snowflakes and snow from the ground and the whiteness was complete.
I was driving through that relying purely on my knowledge of the research area and my inner sense for orientation. It was tricky: there is a deep canal next to the road and the last thing I wanted at those subzero temperatures was to end up in the water.
Soon the snow stopped falling, although the sky remained cloudy. I remember getting stuck in deep snow (but managed to free ourselves easily), also that pure bliss – having a hot coffee in the car, seeing quite a few Roe Deer and several Brown Hares, White-tailed Eagle, a bunch of Common Buzzards and Hooded Crows in a field – must have been next to some less fortunate animal that we couldn’t see from the road…
Nothing special, really, just a sense of a winter wonderland adventure, like being five years of age again and enjoying a sleigh ride.
Oh, I remember those senseless mid-winter counts. I was involved in a scientific monitoring project on the Baltic coast of NE Germany. As poor university students, all we had was bicycles. Even in mid-winter and freezing cold conditions, the scientific method required us to go counting. We knew before each count that we would see nothing but a handful of Hooded Crows, but we had to go, So we cycled out (45 minutes each way), walked along our transect through ice and snow, found a handful of Hooded Crows and cycled back again 45 minutes in the dark.
The second picture in your post is incredible, and at least you saw more than a handful of crows. Cheers, great post as always.
Thanks.
Went birding yesterday, started nicely (temp. -10oC), then snow started to fall reducing visibility to next to nothing.
Tomorrow I’m going to read colour rings at the local landfill and look for rarer gulls.