Ancient weather lore is losing its grip on our winter thoughts

This was because the weather affected their livelihoods to such a large degree, whereas in modern times we seem more concerned with the presents, holidays and partying which are now so much a part of what has become known as our festive season.

The need to scratch a living and find food from our own manual efforts on the land is no longer of such vital importance - even if some of us do grow the Brussels sprouts which are absolutely necessary to accompany our Christmas dinner!

The arrival of snow was perhaps one of the main reasons for country landowners having to cope with enforced problems in their fields and among their livestock.

To deal with consequences of the weather they tried, albeit with little success I would imagine, to forecast the future so that appropriate preparations could be made.

Heavy snow, even when expected, can disrupt the most carefully laid plans. And, of course, heavy snow means that particular attention is needed for sheep wintering on the moors and fells.

Food and shelter for them continues to be of high priority, any cattle usually being safely indoors. Even today, a moderate snowfall results in lots of extra and time-consuming hard work.

The reliability of ancient methods of weather prognostication has always been in doubt, even if it is proved correct on a few isolated occasions. Yet today, with sophisticated computer systems and satellite communications, long-distance weather forecasting remains laced with uncertainty.

Our weather always seems to retain the upper hand and capable of delivering constant surprises.

Here is one example of the kind of lore which meant such a lot to our ancestors: "If October brings heavy frosts and winds, then will January and February be mild."

The snag is that this piece of wisdom does not suggest how many frosts and winds are required to ensure a mild start to the new year. But despite that slight lack of clarity, perhaps it is time to look back at past Octobers to test the accuracy of that saying. Maybe there is some truth in it?

To this we can add the following: "If the first snow falls on moist, soft earth, it indicates a small harvest, but if upon hard, frozen earth, a good harvest."

In this way, country folk tried to plan as far ahead as next autumn, but it is difficult to know just how much reliability they placed on such a saying.

As we move steadily into November, there are similar old sayings which try to forecast what lies ahead and it was this kind of frequently quoted wisdom which helped farmers to plan their work routine.

Here are some examples: "A heavy November snow will last until April." "Ice in November brings mud in December." "Thunder in November, a fertile year to come." "As November, so the following March."

Perhaps the best known tells us that: "If there's ice in November that will bear a duck, there'll be nothing after but sludge and muck."

As for the coming Martinmas Day, it is said that if the leaves of the trees do not fall before St Martin's Day, then a cold winter can be expected. And if the geese can stand on ice on St Martin's Day, then they will walk in mud at Christmas.

A north-west wind on St Martin's Day is also said to herald a severe winter, but if it is in the south-east, it will remain there until Candlemas (February 2), thus signifying a mild winter.

There are several supporting pieces of lore which suggest that wherever the wind is on St Martin's Day, it will remain throughout the winter.

In these modern times, the importance of Martinmas - St Martin's feast day - as a means of forecasting the weather has diminished until it is no longer considered of importance.

Even so, it would not surprise me if some country folk study the weather next Tuesday!

An interesting theory has been passed to me by a reader from Norway. He suggests that when the Vikings raided our country during the eighth and ninth centuries, they brought with them a number of slaves.

There is no doubt that the Scandinavian invaders left their mark on our countryside, not only in the place names of some of our villages and hills, but also because they inter-married with the local people and produced offspring.

There is Scandinavian blood in many of us, and much of our local and regional dialect contains recognisable Scandinavian terms.

But did those slaves also inter-marry with the native people? My correspondent believes the slaves were the Sami people, but I am not sure whether they consisted of male and female slaves, or what their duties were in this country.

If the term Sami people means little to us, they were better known as Lapps, hailing from a remote northern area close to the Arctic circle and following a nomadic lifestyle.

Their habitat included several northern countries, such as Norway, Sweden, Finland and parts of Russia, but they were not members of those nations - they were a separate race of people without a country of their own who apparently ignored national boundaries.

There is no doubt they were persecuted and, today, the Sami people regard the term Lapp as derogatory.

When I was in Norway recently, I visited a museum at Tromso which has a fascinating section dedicated to the Sami people.

Until recently, their entire livelihood was based upon the reindeer. It provided their food, clothing and tents - every part of the reindeer was used, its antlers, hooves and bones being fashioned into tools and domestic utensils.

I saw some exquisite spoons carved from antlers, for example, while warm and beautifully crafted clothing was made from the hide.

Small family units maintained herds of reindeer while living in hide tents or turf huts. Today, many Sami live in modern houses, although some of the men continue to work away from home, still herding reindeer.

Nowadays, most of the Sami people earn their living by fishing, forestry work, farming or working in industrial areas or for government agencies, although many of them are highly skilled craftspeople, making jewellery, clothing and producing beautiful works of art.

We went to a small market where Sami women were selling home-produced garments like sweaters and hats, in addition to domestic items made from reindeer antlers. In all cases, the crafting skills were exquisite.

Today, there are some 70,000 Sami people, about 40,000 of them living in a northern part of Norway called Finnmark with 20,000 or so in Sweden, 6,000 in Finland and a further 2,000 in Russia.

The Sami are now fighting to retain their identity, with attempts being made to teach the language in schools and to strengthen their cultural links.

I believe some newspapers are now published in the Sami tongue, but as they become increasingly integrated in the populations of the countries in which they live, it will become very difficult to maintain a separate culture.

Whether people in our region have any ancient Sami blood in their veins, however, is something we may never know. But with the miracle of DNA now becoming more widespread, who knows what scientists may discover?

My notes about a humming bird hawkmoth in North Yorkshire have prompted readers to report some interesting sightings.

A woman from Romanby, near Northallerton, noticed one on September 24, feeding on the geraniums at Wensleydale railway station at Leeming Bar, and she noticed another on October 4.

Another was seen by a Melsonby reader, flitting between her garden and that of her neighbour, while a Darlington reader also reports one visiting her hanging baskets during the summer, being attracted by the red verbena flowers.

A Yarm reader also provides a nostalgic account of his childhood playing around the Loftus alum mines. He tells how children lit fires in the alum pits and enjoyed picnics while fishing in what they called the old harbour.

There was also a tunnel known as Smugglers' Cave and he recalls looking down into the cockpits of passing Lockheed Hudson aircraft on wartime coastal patrol! Wonderful stuff