Five inches of snow Sunday morning, on top of five on Friday afternoon, and about five more the middle of last week. About the same forecast again for tonight.
And the thing is, it won’t melt for a long, long time, because the temperature never goes very far above freezing. Not since the third week of December, anyway. The Danish Meterological Society reports that January was the coldest month in 23 years.
Ice on the Øresund between Denmark and Sweden comes and goes. One morning it’s solid and gray out for a quarter mile—looks like you could walk right out to the edge. I can imagine a polar bear hovering over a bloody seal carcass. The next morning it’s rectangular ice floes jostling against each other; the morning after that it’s open water and choppy waves. Nobody can figure out why—something to do with currents or tides or wind.
Saturday we took cross-country skis up to the Dyrehavn on the train and skiied around for a couple of hours. It was 19 degrees but the sun was out, the wind wasn’t too bad. Plenty of people out on their skis, so there were nice “tracks” to follow. First time I’d been on skis in about four years.
Louis gets 50 kroner each time he shovels the sidewalk. It’s starting to become expensive.
Saturday was shopping day, and we had to decide whether we would finally abandon the bicycles and walk or take the bus on the 1 km trip down to SuperBest. I went out to reconnoitre: our side street was impassible, but the avenue (Landskronagade) was a flat white sheet that had been pressed nicely by the car traffic, and on the boulevard (Østerbrogade) the bike lanes had been plowed. So we cleared off the bikes and gave it a go. And it worked out OK. But if you’d bet me two years ago that I’d be seeing Jonetta on a bicycle in the snow with 19 degrees I’d have felt guilty taking your money.
Dyr:
