Snow Way

In December, the local daily newspaper had an article talking about the amount of snowfall we’d received, stating that around 20 inches had accumulated in 2007, the highest in seven years. They went on to say that 2006 had no snow at all, which really got my attention, since I remember that we had snow last winter. It was at that point that it struck me that the reporter had fallen prey to that all-too-common slip-up that the map is not the territory. This was yet another example of how our cultural categories, in this case our annual calendar, distorts reality.

Ask any bird, tree, river, or rock on the planet when the year begins or ends, and at best you’ll get a frightened look and at worst you’ll get stony silence or be completely ignored. All right, that’s pretty much true with just about any question you’d ask, but in this case, the coincidence is entirely appropriate, since the year doesn’t really begin or end at any particular time at all. Our planet just keeps going smoothly around the sun in its slightly elliptical orbit without any starting or stopping point along the way. The same goes with the seasons, as do the ways of nature. Our particular species has created a cultural overlay we like to call a “year” to mark one complete revolution around the sun, and in order to do so, have agreed upon Dec. 31/Jan. 1 to draw that invisible starting line in time. Of course, the Christian, Babylonian, Indian and old Roman calendars started their year after the spring equinox, the Egyptians started their year in summer, the Jewish calendar began after the fall equinox, and the Islamic calendar is lunar, meaning that the “beginning” moves throughout the solar year over time.

All of this is to say that deciding to “start” and “end” a year at a particular time cuts up a continuous process and distances us from reality as experienced by the rest of nature. In this case, it splits one season, namely winter, into 2 different years, so in order to get accurate views of this season, you have to do some additional mental gymnastics to get a clearer picture. It means combining the snowfall totals from October, November, and December of one year with January, February, March and April of the next year.

I emailed Jennifer Schack, Sunflower Cable meteorologist, to see if she could provide me with this information, and she said she had the monthly snowfall totals from January 2001 through December 2007, and generously shared those. I also poked around the internet and found that I could access the snowfall records from the Lawrence Coop Weather station (glamorously given the title: “144559”) from 1939-2003. I also found out that climatic averages are re-figured every 30 years or so, and that the current climatic averages are based on data collected from station 144559 between the years 1971-2000. Finally, in researching my book Wild Douglas County, I had used information from the Soil Survey of Douglas County, published in 1977. Collecting all of this information, I created a couple of tables, reproduced below:

Table 1: Snowfall averages for Lawrence, KS, 2001 to 2007 (Sunflower Cable data)

Month	00/01	01/02	02/03	03/04	04/05	05/06	06/07	07/08	Avg.*
Oct.	--	0	0	0	0	0	0	0	0
Nov.	--	0	0.1	0	5	0	0	0.1	0.85
Dec.	--	0	0.2	0.2	0	12	0	8.7	2.07
Jan.	3.2	5	5	0	3	0	3.2	--	2.7
Feb.	6.3	3	3.7	7	3	0	6.1	--	3.8
Mar.	1	3.8	0	0	0	0	0	--	0.63
Apr.	0	0	0	0	0	0	0.1	--	0.01
Total	10.5	11.8	9	7.2	11	12	9.4	8.8	10.07

* Using data only from complete seasons. If early 2001 and late 2007 included, avg is 11.38”

Looking at the data seasonally, it becomes readily apparent that the lack of snow in 2006 and the “highest totals in 7 years” both disappear, as both halves of the season are re-combined in a way that we—and all other forms of life experience winters. So are we receiving more snow than average this winter, i.e. Oct 2007 through April 2008? Maybe, maybe not. On the “maybe” side, the average first three months of snowfall in the past 7 years has been only 3.75 inches, and if you don’t include this year, it’s only 2.92” through December. On the “maybe not” side, however, the entire snowfall for the 2005/6 season (12”) came in December.

Putting these data collected by Sunflower Cable into a larger context, Table 2 below compares the data to a larger dataset collected over a longer period of time:

Table 2: Snowfall averages for Lawrence, KS using different datasets

Month	2001/2 to 2006/71	1971 to 2000 avgs.2	1939 to 2003 avgs3	SCS Climate avgs4
October	0.0	0.2	0.14	-
November	0.85	1.1	0.77	-
December	2.07	2.9	3.88	-
January	2.7	6.5	5.38	-
February	3.8	5.0	3.83	-
March	0.63	1.6	2.59	-
April	0.01	0.3	0.41	-
Total avg.	10.07	17.6	17.0	“18 to 20”

¹Sunflower Cablevision weather station data

²30 year avgs. from 144559 Lawrence, KS station (National Climate Data Ctr. website)

³64 year avgs. from 144559 Lawrence, KS station (High Plains Climate Center website)

⁴Soil Survey of Douglas County, Climate description (published 1977), using data analyzed by Dean Bark, Kansas climatologist for the National Weather Service, using records that go back to 1868.

Looking at the longer datasets, it appears that if anything, we’ve been getting LESS snowfall in the past 6 years or so. Even if you include the incomplete data seasons of 2000 and 2007 and use the higher average of 11.38” it still looks like we used to get more snow than we have since the beginning of the new millennium. It’s interesting that the 30 year average is slightly higher than the 64 year total, though, even though it’s less than the sketchier 100-plus year records. Does global warming increase snowfall around here or decrease it? Are there other cycles at play, like the sunspot cycle? All good questions, but unanswerable by my cursory analysis. Like so much of our weather in these parts, the average is pretty theoretical when your standard deviation is so large. Suffice it to say that it looks like of late, the snowfall for a winter has been running between 8 and 12 inches, with the longer term average of at least 17 inches, so it even if we get twice much snow as we’ve already received for the seasonal total, we will be well within the long term normal range.

So if it snows some more, keep those bird feeders filled, enjoy the unifying effect a substantial snowfall has on the landscape, brush up on your track identification and learn about wildlife activities in your neighborhood. Enjoy the deep blue skies this time of year after a cold front has passed through, and if the snow is fresh and deep, get a glimpse of the cold blue shadows in the snow as you shovel. Don’t forget Eagles Day, and stay warm!

Solstice on the Prairie: Baby Bear Moon

The word solstice means sun (sol) stops (stice). It refers to the sun stopping its march south on the horizon where it rises and sets. December 21/22 is the solstice date most years, but there is less than one minute difference in day length for Douglas County from Dec. 18 through Dec. 24: 9 hours, 27 minutes. I like to locate a place where I have a clear view of the horizon and note where the sun slips down from the sky (or up into it in the morning) during these days, returning to that same spot over the year and watching how far north the sun’s setting/rising point travels along the horizon, as it reaches its northernmost point on the summer solstice in June. The reason for the seasons is no longer an abstraction after witnessing first hand the sun’s trek along that horizon.

Take the time to look to the north at noon on sunny days to observe the super-deep blue skies caused by the lowest sun angles of the year and the low humidity. Because the sun is so low in the sky at noon, the angle of its rays reaches deepest into homes from south-facing windows this time of year, which is the principle used to heat passive solar homes.

Around sunset, Orion’s rising in the east is always cause for celebrating and easy to pick out. Orion’s belt rises as three vertical stars, with the orange-ish Betelgeuse (pronounced beetle juice) framing the belt on the lower left and the bluish Rigel on the upper right of the rectangle. Soon to follow is the brightest star in the sky, Sirius. Andromeda is high overhead, with the “diamond” of Pegasus high in the west. Also overhead is a double open star cluster, beautiful through binoculars, located midway between Perseus and Cassiopeia, and nearby, the recent astronomical phenomenon: comet Holmes. Discovered in the 1800’s after it flared into naked-eye visibility from its orbit between Jupiter and Mars, comet Holmes has once again flared up inexplicably, possibly caused by a collision with an asteroid. While it is fading back into obscurity, a pair of binoculars or a telescope will reveal the halo of cometary debris that surrounds the core--the tail’s diameter currently exceeds the diameter of the sun. For sky maps pinpointing its location, check out www.spaceweather.com or www.skyandtelescope.com.

Down on the ground, nature has prepared for the sun’s shorter, lower treks across the sky in a myriad of ways. Most people know that mammals prepare for colder temperatures by growing thicker coats of hair, but few are aware of how elegantly this is done. The winter coats of mammals generally have two layers. The outer guard hairs are longer and have and oils that shed water and allow them to slip through brush easier. The inner layer of mammal fur is called the underfur and is soft, thick and downy. Fur can be so insulating that snow can remain on a back without melting.

Will we get snow this December? Snow has a way of transforming the landscape. Wildlife activities are easier to track after a snow; property lines disappear, and the land seems reconnected under the unifying blanket. Snow reflects sunlight away from the ground, making the air colder than it otherwise would be. Why is snow white? Because the millions of edges break the reflected sunlight into all colors of the spectrum, and a mix of wavelengths result in us seeing white. When it’s sunny, look at the shadows of a snowdrift and see how blue it is – like the sky. Ever notice how snow blowing across the road or snow field looks like wispy cirrus clouds? The reason is that cirrus clouds are gusts of ice crystals blowing in the upper reaches of the troposphere.

When ice forms on lakes, creeks and rivers, some wildlife get water by eating snow, but if there is none, the cold weather ice concentrates their numbers as they move toward larger bodies of water for drinking. Eagles move from Clinton and other reservoirs to hang out in the cottonwoods below the Bowersock Dam, fishing in the waters kept open by the turbulence when the waters spill over the top. Visit a farm pond not yet sealed by ice and you’ll be amazed at the many signs of wildlife, including muskrat, beaver and waterfowl tracks made when they come for a drink. The ice on a pond needs to be at least six inches thick before skating is safe. Check by chopping a hole in the ice with an axe.

Many over-wintering birds have gathered into mixed species flocks, which many an Audubon member can attest to at their well-stocked bird feeders. Crows, in contrast, join together in single species flocks. Many raptors can be seen by the roadside, perched in trees looking for food. Most are red-tailed hawks. (Look for the rust-colored tail, dark head and light breast). And, of course there are the flocks of waterfowl at area reservoirs, most visible around sunrise and sunset.

This is a great time of year to take a hike in the woods to enjoy the still-green green briar vines, the “blooming” mosses, the orange bittersweet fruit, and, of course, to look for signs of wildlife. Among those many signs are the piles of sticks against trees – pack rats! Saplings stripped of bark and bare patches of earth are signs of the recent deer mating season. Look for rabbit and deer-pruned twigs from last year’s succulent new growth on shrubs. Squirrels have been known to eat bark and tap the sap of the maple in a hard winter. With the reduced osage orange and acorn production caused by the late spring freeze last April, expect more competition at the bird feeders!

Finally, the prairie grasses have lost much of their seed heads by December, and grasses are increasingly matted down by ice, snow and rain as the dormant season progresses. You can still find green shoots of wild onion, yarrow and rosettes of mullein, daisy and thistle, with the onion almost always grazed down a bit by a hungry rodent or deer. Speaking of rodents, look for a tallgrass bunch that has been chewed off a few inches up from the ground by a nest building rodent who will use the straw for insulating its over-wintering burrow. One of my favorite winter-time hiking activities is to find a patch of tallgrass grasses on a cold but sunny day and lie down into the grasses, creating a nest that protects me from the wind and is open to the sun. It is amazing how comfortable this can be. I’m too big to nestle into an Eastern red cedar tree, but many a small bird can attest to its value as a wind break and heat retaining structure on a cold night!