After darkness of Storm Pia, we look to the light

CHRISTMAS is a time for omens.

Once we have established that we are definitely not going to have a white Christmas, festive weather lore is all about scattering the runes to see what lies ahead for the coming year.

Centuries ago, it was popular belief that the weather during the 12 days of Christmas corresponded with each of the months in the forthcoming year.

Other well-worn prognostications include: “At Christmas meadows green, at Easter covered with frost” and (according to one 19th-century proverb) “If at Christmas ice hangs on the willow, clover may be cut at Easter”.

You will notice that much of this revolves around sheer optimism – the worse the weather is now, the better things will be for us in the long run. A windy Christmas, for example (and pipe down at the back, please, not the brussels sprouts kind) is believed to predict a bountiful fruit crop for the year ahead.

All this is well and good, because the weather for the coming days would not make it into any Christmas advert.

Wet and windy in the wake of Storm Pia, some wintry showers in the far north, but otherwise dreich days for the rest of us.

Speaking of omens, this week I had a day that was bookended by them. Driving early one morning a ghostly barn owl reared in front of the car windscreen. That same evening we spotted a raven circling our house.

Both birds have a bit of a sinister reputation in British mythology. But the raven, in particular, is deemed to be bad news. Supposedly a visitation from the bird to a home indicates an impending death in the family.

In the spirit of Christmas folklore, I am preferring to see our surprise visitor in a more positive light: that out of the darkness, change is on the horizon.*

Flooding in St Ives, Cambs, as Storm Pia caused the Great Ouse to burst its banks