The Polar Vortex

The frigid arms of the Polar Vortex recently held the Heartland captive in an unforgettable weeklong embrace. The negative 20-degree weather that I refer to here is hard to describe, but I will try for you. Emerging from the lukewarm shelter of our home meant stepping into a giant peppermint explosion of a thousand fluorescent lights. Tiny glinting shards of ice hung in the air like silver glitter, all of this very reminiscent of a snow-globe diorama. It took my breath away by its laser intensity. Fingers exposed for less than five minutes burned like liquid nitrogen. The glare of the day, the snow, the ice, all seared the eyes and the senses. Every living being (and heating element) struggled or perished through this dazzling white peril. Yet even with the Polar Vortex’s unrelenting cold fist closed around our world, life was thriving all around us.

I thought of the wild animals who inherently understood how to navigate this season of testing. The weak and ailing unwillingly became a food offering to the strong. The careless and foolish succumbed to the cunning and the sly. This was Nature’s way. Darwin had it right when he wrote about the “survival of the fittest.” Any creature in the wild, especially under harsh conditions such as this, had to be fit and smart to live to see another Spring. My mind went to the creatures outside of our sunroom windows and beyond. How do they do it? How do they survive in this subzero world? This kind of toughness is something that we humans cannot possibly understand although we are strong, but the creatures, they do. They survive.

I looked across to our bee yard and chicken coop. I know that bees do just fine in the wild without the aid of human intervention, but John and I covered our hives with windbreakers nonetheless. I secretly like to think that they appreciated this tiny bit of human interference. The bees are inside the hives right now, shivering in a large cluster ball to produce heat to keep the Queen, who is in the center, warm. In a month or so, when the earth warms again, we will see if there is any activity at the hive entrances, an indication that they made it through these harshest of conditions, and the hive growth and honey making will begin its cycle all over again. The wheel of life, after all.

And of course, I thought of the Chicks, our much cared for chickens. I found myself looking out of the windows of our sunroom, constantly analyzing the comings and goings of the many native bird species that we have here in Northwest Missouri, who gather daily around our birdfeeder. Chickens, after all, are birds, and I saw that these beautiful, colorful little creatures were going about business as usual. I know that with chickens we must be careful not to assign human attributes to them regarding winter temperatures. They do not feel the cold like we do. They are, after all, wearing down jackets. If their coop is heated, that is harmful to them because they will not be able to bulk up and grow the necessary insulation needed to survive naturally in the cold. I found too, sadly, that their combs and wattles are prone to frostbite. In the photo below you can see the black and white frostbite damage on the tips of their combs. I used Vaseline to help with this, massaging it liberally into these delicate areas. This damage will sluff off eventually and heal, but I have to think that it was painful (poor girlies). I did take some additional proactive precautions to help them without going overboard to their detriment. I wrapped The Hen Den in triple layer clear plastic tarp to make it draft proof. The roof still allowed ventilation which is essential to chickens in any kind of weather. I also insulated the coop’s interior walls with triple-layer cardboard which I will improve upon this summer. I fed the Chicks cracked corn and sometimes hot oatmeal before bedtime which helps keep them warm, generating heat through the digestion process, and of course, extra mealworms which are a great source of protein. The one risk factor I took was the heating element. I opted for a Japanese metal hot water bottle that I wrapped in a thin tote bag to prevent burning if they touched it and placed it in the center of the coop house under their roosting bars. In these frigid temperatures, it gave off a tiny bit of heat in the enclosed coop. I am hoping it was just enough to help take the edge off. I do think all of this helped in the long run, at least I hope so.

While our Winter wonderland is beautiful here, I do look forward to Spring and new beginnings around the farm. I hope that this Spring brings new and positive beginnings to you and the rest of the World too during this challenging time. Sending healing thoughts. ❤️

Until next time . . .

K.