While the human world at year’s end swirls around us in energetic complexity, it is worth a moment to consider nature’s alternative —the profound quiet of the northern Great Basin in December.
Those who know the region well are familiar with the description of it as a cold desert. We can sometimes forget this on hot summer days, but in December this truth cannot be ignored. As the sun approaches the winter solstice, a profound chill settles over the Malheur Refuge and the open spaces that surround it.
During periods of high barometric pressure, Malheur’s lowlands fill with still cold air that can remain in place for days until a weather change brings back the wind and stirs the atmosphere. During these periods, a cold freezing fog known as a pogonip can form, which provides just enough moisture to allow the development of hoar frost. To walk about under these conditions is to realize just how stunningly beautiful ice crystals can be.
Sooner or later, of course, these high-pressure spells end, and the next weather system sweeps in from the Pacific. These disturbances usually deposit the great majority of their moisture in western Oregon and the Cascades, and by the time they get to Malheur they bring more wind than snow.
The December wind at Malheur can be brutal, the cold cutting through the best of our jackets and gloves. Yet, for the creatures that do call Malheur their home year-round, the winds and cold form just another part of their world—phenomenon they are adapted to endure.
There is a reason that most of the birds that pass through Malheur each year are far to the south right now. From the marshlands of Central California to the forests of Central America, they have sought more temperate places to spend the winter. Who can blame them. They are the original “snow birds.”
As you may be able to tell from these words, I am a fan of winter in the Great Basin. I find joy in the profound quiet and the apparent simplicity of winter’s often stark landscapes. The contrast with the human world could not be stronger. A visit to Malheur at year ‘s end will tell you why.
– W. Tweed
