Posts Tagged ‘extreme cold’
Coping Well
When it gets extremely cold with dangerously low wind chill temperatures, schools cancel classes and communities postpone events, but nobody cancels walking the dog or feeding the horses. Eighteen below zero Fahrenheit doesn’t keep us from donning our “space suits” to trudge out into the harsh conditions and carrying out our duties the same as every other day.
Asher needs to get out there to freshly mark his territory, and the horses need us to make sure they can get a drink of water and feed them grain and hay. Finding the water isn’t frozen in the morning is a huge plus in having things go smoothly for the early feeding. All four horses appear to be coping well with the biting cold, which also goes a long way toward allowing us to enjoy life here in the Arctic conditions.
While I was standing idle in the morning sunlight, waiting for the horses to finish their grains, I noticed some pigeons were on the waterer. They weren’t satisfied with simply getting a drink. One of them jumped in the water like it was its personal hot tub.
I have no idea how they avoid getting frozen when they step back out into the -18°F air. I would expect them to become pigeoncicles. They have been leaving a lot of pigeon-poopcicles on the horses’ placemats lately that are almost impossible to scrape off. I would say the pigeons seem to be coping with the cold better than all the rest of us.
We are starting to count the days until we can pull blankets off the horses to free them from that annoyance. As soon as overnight temps quit dropping below zero and daytime temps are hitting the 20sF, we will offer the horses some relief. The blankets are helpful during cold snaps or heavy snowfalls, but the horses would prefer not having them matting down the hair on their backs for days on end.
They have done a good job of coping with the necessary evil this week. I’d think they would appreciate having the blankets fluffed and recentered on their backs, but they tend to act non-cooperatively most of the times we try.
We just need to cope with getting a little push-back and reposition the blankets anyway. Having the blankets hanging off-center may not bug them, but it bugs the OCD tendencies in me when I see it.
That’s an area where my coping skills could use a little work.
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Deep Freeze
The temperature never rose above negative numbers yesterday, but all our electrically heated water sources for the horses functioned flawlessly! That makes tending to the animals so much less stressful, even though doing anything outside for an extended amount of time at 15 below carries its own challenges.
Yesterday afternoon, while I was waiting for the horses to finish the grain in their buckets, I was looking out over the frozen, sunlit scenery and marveled over the environment. In our homes, we have little freezers for food preservation. They take a lot of energy to function, and we try not to hold the doors open very long to preserve the cold. Restaurants have freezers so big you can walk inside them. A large frozen space seems like such an engineering accomplishment.
Yet, here I was, standing where everything I was looking at was frozen colder than any refrigerator freezer. The wood and screws of our fences. The trunks of all the trees, some of which develop long vertical cracks from the extremely dry, cold air. The ground freezes several feet deep. The world around me was one colossal freezer.
Five months from now, these temperatures will be a distant memory. It’s such a fascinating transformation.
Indoors, our bird of paradise plant is showing a new sprout on the stem of the smallest leaf. It’s a wonderful compliment to the deep freeze outside.
The previous three sprouts that have appeared since this gorgeous potted “tree” arrived at our home were so inspiring that I find myself watching and wondering where and when another pointy tip will emerge. I now have my answer.
Another leaf is imminent.
Maybe the spring thaw won’t be very far behind.
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Conflicting Evidence
One of the more frustrating situations in troubleshooting is the intermittent problem. Yesterday morning, we heated water and filled an insulated pitcher before heading to the barn to feed the horses. Since the waterer in the paddock had frozen up again the previous afternoon when the temperature was relatively mild, we were prepared for the worst after an overnight of extreme cold.
That wasn’t the case. Water was flowing just fine when we arrived to check. It doesn’t make sense to me.
If the water line is not freezing when it gets really cold overnight, the heat tape must be doing its job. That leaves me with the question of why the heat tape wouldn’t prevent freezing when the air temperature moderates into the teens (F) in the middle of the day.
At one point when we suspected the heat tape might be failing, I surmised the possibility that when the horses consistently drink from the waterer, there is enough flow through the line and the valve that it helps prevent freezing. If the waterer is untouched for a length of time, the static state of water in the lines could lead to freezing.
It’s hard to know if the horses are neglecting to drink from the waterer at regular intervals.
We have found the pans of the waterer empty when the line freezes up, so we know the horses eventually get around to drinking after the line is frozen and can’t refill.
With luck, the extreme cold snap we are experiencing for a few days now will be the last of the season. The forecast for a week from now indicates some days above freezing. At almost two months past the winter solstice, the increasing angle of sunshine in the middle of the days is noticeable. Even when the temperature stays below freezing, there are obvious signs of snowmelt around the grounds.
I’m looking forward to the return of warm days when we won’t have to worry about the waterer. If it gets warm enough that the freezing water line is no longer a problem, it will also mean I don’t have to bundle up in my space suit to go outside every morning.
Double bonus!
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Wicked Cold
One hard part about surviving a bitterly cold winter night is when the following day and night offer no relief. In fact, the second night proves to be even more harsh. Ouch. It would be great if we could just hunker down inside beside a warm, glowing fireplace during extremes such as -20°F with crazy windchill numbers making it feel much, much colder.
Wisps of deep-freeze ice crystals decorate the driveway.
With outdoor animals that need to be fed and a pet dog that needs to be walked, we don’t have the luxury of staying inside. Adding insult to the brutal conditions, yesterday afternoon I discovered there was no water in our Ritchie waterer in the paddock. Something was frozen. The question was, what to do about it? Of course, Cyndie had the right idea.
She placed a call to the guy who originally installed it and who also repaired the leaking valve last fall. He was at a funeral. She left a message and called the office. The owner answered (which is how she learned our guy was at a funeral), and he tried to offer some suggestions. It was just enough to help me with an idea.
I dug up a heat lamp that was stowed in the vacant chicken coop. Meanwhile, our guy at the funeral checked his messages and called Cyndie back. He provided more specific instructions about where the most common freezing occurs and how to address it. She heated water and came down with an insulated carafe. While the heat lamp was pointed into the inner workings from a side access panel, we chipped away at the frozen cover.
When the cover came loose, Cyndie slowly trickled hot water on the exposed float valve and feeder tube until the carafe was empty. When she returned to the house to get more, I held the heat lamp strategically over the valve. In about one minute, I heard some action. The water was starting to move. The heat lamp was doing the trick, and soon, water filled the metal pans of the double-sided waterer.
Earlier, we had put out electrically heated buckets of water under the overhang to encourage the horses to drink more water during the cold spell. Now, they were showing curiosity about what all the fuss was down at the waterer. I’m hoping they will keep drinking from it because that will move water through the valve, and maybe slow any refreezing likely to re-occur at these wicked cold temperatures.
If it is frozen again this morning, at least we know exactly what we can do to solve it.
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Counting Leaves
It is not impossible to function at -14°F (-25°C), but it can be a bit of a hassle to tie up hay nets and distribute buckets of grain –one of which now gets watered down— in such extreme conditions. I am very happy that Asher showed a keen sense of efficiency and adapted perfectly to my plan to shortcut our morning walk and get his business out of the way as swiftly as possible.
The horses were equally focused on their tasks and offered no resistance to assuming their positions and chomping grain with their frozen whiskers getting messier by the minute.
The feelings of accomplishment when returning to the house and getting the feeling back in our fingers and toes don’t entirely dispel the intense urge to have remained under the warm covers of our bed instead.
We tell ourselves these extreme cold snaps that are difficult to survive help to control the populations of pest animals and insects, as well as the number of added people who might consider moving into our region when their homes prove to be inhabitable.
I looked up at the leaves in the big oak tree over our driveway and had two thoughts.
There aren’t many leaves left clinging to all those branches. On the other hand, there are still more leaves up in that tree than I could count.
In contrast, there is a young oak nearby that looks as though it still is holding all its leaves after they dried up and turned brown.
There is also a birdhouse with a birch bark roof that features an opening that wasn’t there when initially built.
I think the residents left for a warmer climate a long time ago.
As harsh as this weather is, the forecast indicates the bite will be even more intense tomorrow. The critters that survive this will have something to brag about.
I have no conclusion that wraps these contemplations this morning into a logical theme. That would involve more thought than I have to muster. With what little energy I have, I intend to curl into a ball like Asher is doing right now on the couch beside me and save what I can for the next foray into the Arctic elements outside later this afternoon.
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Mia’s Malaise
Someone left the freezer door open on the planet, and our air is feeling rather Arctic again. Yesterday morning, I took some pictures of Mix because her eyelashes looked like she was wearing white mascara.
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It stayed cold all day, but the sun was shining, and the horses all appeared to be coping with it as well as they usually do. However, when we showed up to serve the second feeding of the day as the sun was setting, Mia wasn’t her typical self. As the other three moved into position near the overhang, Mia stood motionless, facing out toward the hay field.
We called out a few invitations to join us, but she showed no interest. When all the buckets were hung and the other three horses were eating, Cyndie started toward Mia, and Mia turned to make her way slowly up. It’s not uncharacteristic that the other horses display some attitude toward Mia but it doesn’t ever seem fair that they emphatically dis her when she obviously doesn’t feel well.
Mix would not leave Mia alone as Mia was headed toward her bucket of grains, so Cyndie unclipped the bucket and held it for Mia to eat, which she slowly did without her normal zest. Thinking the cold might be getting to her, we got her blanket out and she let us cover her up without a fuss. The lack of objection is also unusual.
What bothered me the most was how she simply stood in place when I finally moved the bucket back to her placemat. She showed no energy and no sign of wanting to eat hay for the internal warmth it would provide.
When we got back to the house, Cyndie checked with Johanne, our handler from “This Old Horse” and she recommended a dose of Banamine. Cyndie and I headed back down and administered the pain reliever, which Mia accepted without complaint. I wondered, “Where’d the Mia I used to know go?”
It was sad to see her so lifeless. I adjusted the camera on the spot where she remained standing so we could keep an eye on her. It didn’t take long before I noticed she had disappeared from view. I eased the camera around and found her eating from a hay bag.
She was back!
We followed the horses for most of the evening on the surveillance camera and saw Mia eating hay a good percentage of the time. To our surprise, we also picked up 3 or 4 small canines (foxes? coyotes? too hard to discern) romping around. Didn’t seem to bother the horses.
Based on the tracks frequently visible in the paddock, I suspect they visit often enough that the horses are unperturbed by the activity.
Now, due to an even colder weather forecast for next week, we plan to blanket the other three horses very soon. Hopefully, Mia will be feeling better by the time that test of stamina gets here.
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Minor Inconvenience
The cold weather arrived as predicted to grasp us in its firm grip. I suppose it is a sign of my lifetime of exposure to the harshness of season-long snow and cold that this cold snap has barely presented a minor inconvenience to my normal routine.
I’ve complained in the past about growing less and less patient with my slow and laborious effort of donning what I have taken to calling my “spacesuit” before heading out to do chores. The tedious struggle is well worth it though because the crazy cold hasn’t been a problem for me in terms of comfort.
I need to pay attention to the minutes Asher is out because the pads of his paws are vulnerable to the cryogenic extremes. Other than that, he shows no sign of having any problems with the cold.
The horses look to be coping just fine. Breakfast time almost feels warm under the cover provided by the overhang and bathed in the rays of sunlight beaming in during the morning meal.
The main challenge at feeding time in extreme cold is managing the knots on the hay bags. That and scraping away frozen pigeon droppings on the placemats under their feed buckets.
Yesterday, Asher and I even made a successful outing in the car, and the cold didn’t break the seal on any of the tires. He had a grooming appointment in Baldwin that Cyndie usually drives him to, but since she is being a good patient and staying indoors, I became the chauffeur.
I had forgotten that Cyndie mentioned there are cats roaming loose at the dog grooming place. I was taken by surprise when I noticed Asher nose to nose with a big long-haired cat just inside the door. He looked mildly curious but not the least bit threatening as I tensed up and probably triggered him to be more concerned than he initially was.
Luckily, the check-in process happened so fast, there wasn’t time for any problem to erupt.
On a cold day when my preference would be to stay snuggled in and avoid any potential for unexpected driving issues, I was sent out a second time at dusk to pick up a change of meds for treating Cyndie’s pneumonia. She developed a rash from the first prescription.
We are hoping that was just a minor inconvenience on her road to a full recovery.
My trusty car performed well despite the deep freeze. In the end, the most difficult part of the whole day for me was working through the checklist of getting myself in and out of my spacesuit every time I had to walk Asher or do the horse chores.
Remember the old saying, there’s no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothing.
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Conditions Soften
The winter months this season have been about as soft as I’ve experienced in this region compared to all the years my somewhat feeble memory has retained while living in what is described as the upper midwestern United States. The previous week has been the only period of dramatic cold temperatures and that bone-chilling Arctic blast has already begun to release its stinging grip.
The relaxing of the horses’ energy is palpable. They are stoic beasts in the face of the worst weather that nature manages to conjure up. They may display a bit of shortened patience while we stumble around to complete our tasks in minus thirty-degree (F) wind chill, but they stand firm and resolute against the oppressive pressures of extreme cold.
When the temperature climbs back to positive numbers, we can feel the release of tension their bodies have been holding in defense against the elements. That’s when I noticed the same thing was happening to me this morning.
I can breathe without frost forming on my whiskers, bolstered by the knowledge a January thaw is on tap in the days ahead. The only catch with the arrival of above-freezing temps is that any precipitation that might show up at the same time could fall as rain, my absolute least favorite winter condition.
Winter rain just leads to winter ice. Yuck. And the horses agree with me on that assessment.
I’ve had the pleasure of enjoying fancy winter lighting in the sky recently.
Always remember to look straight up in the sky to capture some great views.
I don’t know how to find a pot of gold at the end of that rainbow, but it was a treat watching the light play in the wisps of clouds in the sky.
A day or two later, an unexplained streak of cloud (remains of a contrail?) caught my eye because of the fiery refraction of sunlight at the end.
Something tells me the warmer air moving in won’t offer daytime light shows like the icy skies just did.
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Mostly Coping
Yesterday was something of a between-day. We enjoyed a break because no new snow fell and the winds had yet to kick up significantly when I walked the trash bin down to the road last night. At the start of the day, Mia seemed to be functioning normally and all the horses appeared to have dealt with the overnight cold just fine. Mix wanted to show off her frosty whiskers.
I wanted to take a picture of her cute frozen eyelashes.
Even though the temperature stayed below zero all day long, they warm up enough in the daylight to melt all the frost off themselves.
I filled my day yesterday by plowing about six inches of light powder from the driveway before pulling snow off the roof over the front entrance. Plenty more snow remains to be moved today but if it gets as windy as predicted, I may just wait one more day.
As the sun was about to set, it glowed through a haze of snow blown airborne across our horizon.
I was on my way down to re-attach the mailbox to its post after it got knocked off by the wash from the township snowplow blade. For the moment, what wind we were getting was coming from the west-northwest which is ideal for the orientation of our barn. Under the overhang, the horses can enjoy the relative calm.
With no wind chill complicating their ability to cope with the extremely cold temperatures, they seem to accept the conditions better than we do. I wonder if it is because they have no other choice, while we keep going back inside warm accommodations as much as possible.
Do they keep hoping for a day when the bite of bitter cold loosens its grip? If there is such a thing as horse sense, I hope they do.
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Delicate Impressions
There is a new covering of snow that has created a fresh surface for our forest creatures to make their marks upon. I’ve gotten no better over the years at differentiating the identity of the range of little footprints made by squirrels, rabbits, chipmunks, moles, and mice, but I know all of them are out there running around.
It starts with one or two crossing our trails while snow is still falling and by 24 hours later, it looks like everyone is out and about. Yesterday, we found evidence of a feathered friend, or friends, dancing around on the white carpet.
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I love seeing the gentle wisps of wing feathers adding context to visible footwork scribbled in the snow.
While I had my camera out to capture all this art, I spotted a different sort of impression. I love the combination of the shadow of sunlight and the indented snow impression on either side of this dried plant that wind had pressed down.
No pictures were taken during our last walk of the night because it was too dark, but there were plenty of beautiful views we enjoyed as I pulled the trash bin down our driveway to the road.
I wore a headlamp but never turned it on. With the small crescent moon reflecting light onto the white snow-covered ground, there was just enough light that I could navigate my way.
The sky was crystal clear, which explains the space-like below-zero temperatures we are experiencing again. We put blankets back on the horses earlier in the night after giving them a break for a few days. The stars were so bright we almost didn’t need the reflections off the slice of the moon that was visible.
I noticed the horses were standing at the bottom of the slope from the barn, near the gate to the hayfield, as we passed by. As Delilah and I neared the top of the last rise in the driveway before it drops down to the road, my peripheral vision picked up motion to my right.
Turning my head to figure out what it was brought an unexpected startle of the four horses jogging along the fence beside us. We all stopped as I turned my whole body to acknowledge them and exchange greetings. Delilah seemed unimpressed with having company on our trek.
As I resumed pulling the trash bin along the driveway, the four blanketed horses decided to run off in a beautiful semi-moonlit arc off the rise and back down toward the outer perimeter of the paddock fence line.
The delicate impressions of walking the trash to the road always make the chore well worth the effort, even in hazardous wind-chill conditions.
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Relative Something 