January

by Peter Conway

January is many people's least favourite month. This is true midwinter, without the distraction of Christmas to soften it. The weather can be at its coldest, one is brought face to face with the realities of one's life, and one feels most vulnerable to colds and flu.

Yet January can be nice when it wants to be, offering a series of crisp, frosty sunny days. And though spring still seems a long way off, there are also early signs of its approach - slowly lengthening evenings, snowdrops and other early plant shoots - and a definitely warmer feel to the sun, when it deigns to shine.

WEATHER

One expects January to be miserable, grey, wet and windy and in general it does not disappoint. But generally speaking the month offers at least one period of stable, sunny weather, as high pressure establishes itself, keeping the Atlantic frontal systems at bay.

Often this happens towards the end of the month. In both 2006 and 2007 wet and windy Atlantic westerlies gave way on 20 January to sunshine. The cause was a high pressure zone sat right over the UK in the former year, and to the west of the UK in the latter. In 2005 there was also sunshine from 21 to 26 January, and even 2004 - an unusually grey January - saw sunshine on 24 to 25 January.

In 2008, which had a dismally wet and windy start bringing flooding to some parts of the country, Atlantic lows kept high pressure to the south. But it still managed to edge in to bring mainly sunny weather to the south east from the 24th to the 28th. Though westerlies then returned, 29 January 2008 was fine and the following day sunny, as was the 1st of February.

2009 and 2010 saw a reverse of this picture, with the first part of the month continuing very cold weather from November, and the second half seeing westerlies, with slightly milder temperatures. In 2009, the first ten days of the month continued the very cold weather that had dominated in much of December. Temperatures regularly fell as low as minus 5 overnight, and on 7 January were minus 8 to minus 11 across the south east. Daytime temperatures struggled to rise above zero, the ground often remained frozen all day, and a couple of days saw hoar frost (frost on every twig and surface).

Then on 11 January 2009, milder westerly winds returned, and dominated for nearly the whole of the rest of the month, with heavy rain at times that caused minor flooding. Throughout the month there was a mix of sunny and cloudy days, with three out of the first four Saturdays of the year managing to be sunny.

In 2010, the start of January saw snowfall right across the country, caused by high pressure initially to the west of the UK and later centred over Scandinavia, bringing easterly winds from Siberia. In the south east between 10 and 20 centimetres of snow fell overnight from 5-6 January and on 8 January a satellite picture showed the whole country covered with a white blanket. With temperatures as cold as minus five degrees overnight and only 2-3 degrees at best by day in the south east, this snow did not melt, and it was topped up with more snow in Kent over the weekend of 9-10 January, and to the south and west of London on 13 January.

Coming on top of a week of snow in mid December, it felt as if there had been snow on the ground for weeks. But in fact, the thaw set in on 14-16 January. There then followed ten days of Atlantic lows, with daytime temperatures of 5-6 degrees, before winds turned northerly for the last five days. The first four days of the month and the final two apart, this was a bleak grey month, with little sunshine.

While the snow in 2010 was extreme – it was said to be the worst in 30 years – high pressure and winds from the east or north do quite often bring snow at the end of January. For example, in 2007 there was snow on 24 January, and on 30 January 2003 two inches of rush hour snow notoriously brought London to a halt. 28 and 29 January the following year were also snowy. In 2005, a high to the west of the UK brought at times cold north winds and sunshine and at others grey skies and snow flurries: the snow did not settle, however. 27 January 2006 brought a dusting of snow to Kent, which soon melted in the following days sun.

In 2009 there was a dusting of snow on 5 January, but it was not until the last three days of the month that the classic Scandinavian high set in, bringing cold air from the continent and later Russia. This produced the heaviest snow in the south east for 18 years on the night of 1-2 February, the start of a prolonged period of snow disruption across the country. 8 February 2007 also saw significant snow: see the February page for more details.

It is not completely unheard of for January to be almost entirely sunny. In 2003 after a tremendously wet late December which caused the Thames to flood to twice its width at Henley by early January, bright sunny weather set in from about 4 January, and lasted for the whole rest of the month, with the odd grey days interveningand the brief period of snow mentioned above. 2001, meanwhile, managed the remarkable feat of four successive sunny weekends, the only exception being a grey third Sunday.

Temperatures in January typically hover between 6 and 9 degrees in westerly winds, or as low as 2 or 3 degrees by day under high pressure. 2007 was a wierd exception, with temperatures as much as 13 degrees, and regularly in the 8-11 degree range.

Out of the wind, the sun in January can feel surprisingly warm – by mid month, it has lost its midwinter paleness and starts to pack more of a punch. The author has sat outside a pub eating lunch on the second weekend of the month, and walked in shirtsleeves on the fourth. As the month progresses, the midday sun is noticeably higher in the sky and no longer seems to lurk at treetop level all day.

A curious fact about January is that the mornings actually get darker till mid month: but there is progress at the other end of the day. Thus while it gets light at just past 8am and dark at 3.53pm on 18 December, by 10 January it is still dark till past 8am, but now light till 4.15pm. The sudden realisation, around the middle of the month, that it is now full daylight at 4pm, or even 4.30pm, is one of January's minor pleasures. By the end of the month, lighting up time is 4.45pm and it is possible to walk in the countryside until 5.15pm.

NATURE NOTES

• Green shoots on the woodland floor are an early sign of spring
• Snowdrops come out towards the end of the month, along with hazel catkins
• Birdsong increases noticeably

Flower names in blue below indicate a photo link. You can also put your cursor over any photo to the right for a caption, or click on it to view it larger, or see the full January photostream. For more photos of flowers, birds and trees mentioned in this section, try Wikipedia.

January might seem to be as dead as December, but in fact there are already signs of spring for those with keen eyes and ears. Warmer weather is still a long way away, but nature has definitely started its preparations for it.

Green shoots on the woodland floor

Though they are very tentative, the keen-eyed can see signs of spring in January, as spring flowers to come start to grow and establish their territories. Already in December (or even late November) little shoots of cow parsley (which really looks like parsley at this time of year) and goosegrass have appeared on woodland floors and pathside verges, and by mid January they are joined by celandines and dogs mercury.

Early in the month daffodil shoots can be seen rising ramrod straight out of the ground (in warmer years one or two of them might even flower in very sheltered spots, but this is unusual), and at the very end of the month you may even spot shoots of bluebell plants. Also to be seen are the waxy curved leaves of cuckoo pint, and sometimes in warmer years early white or red deadnettles. In arable fields, new crops of wheat or rape start to grow, bringing a much needed splash of green to the landscape.

(In 2010, the snow in the first half of the month did not affect the cow parsley and goosegrass shoots, but daffodils shoots only appeared in the third week, and celandines, dogs mercury and cuckoo pint shoots were still not widely visible at the month's end. Daffodil shoots were also delayed till mid month in cold January 2009)

The first flowers

There are also some plants that are actually flowering in January. One you might see on roadside verges is winter heliotrope – a not unattractive purple and white flower on a plant with large circular leaves. In warmer years, it is also not unknown for there to be isolated daisies in lawns if the air is mild (they don’t last long, however, and do not come out in force until March of April).

But the main January flower is, of course, the snowdrop which hangs its head humbly in the January cold. First snowdrops can appear in sheltered locations mid month - I saw my first snowdrop in 2004 on 11 January near Goring, on 15 January near Chilham in 2005 and by Watts Chapel near Guildford on 12 January 2008 – but they really come out in force about a week to ten days later. (In cold January 2010, most snowdrops were still just buds by the month's end, however.)

Late in January one might also see some crocuses pushing up their shoots – some were in evidence as early as mid month in 2007 and 2008, with more coming up as the month went on: usually one expects crocuses to appear at the start of February, however. In 2009 there were a very few shoots right at the end of the month: but in cold 2010 none were evident at all.

In gardens, winter jasmine – bare stalked, but with yellow flowers – adds a splash of colour, and you may see winter flowering cherry trees. Gorse can also show some yellow flowers right from the start of January.

Catkins and early leaves

Another clear harbinger of spring is when the short hazel catkin buds suddenly lengthen into long yellow lambs tales towards the end of the month. (This happened as early as 17 January 2007 and on 11 January in 2008, but not till around 22 January in 2009 and not at all in January 2010). These can cause the first symptoms of hayfever – sneezing and eye itching. At the end of the month, you can also see some alder catkins (easily identified as this is the only tree with both cones and catkins) start to lengthen and flower too, though it is not until mid February that this happens en masse.

White willow twigs shine bright orange in the landscape (it is actually a certain variety of white willow that does this), as do the more browny orange branches of weeping willows and the reddish twigs of dogwood. Other trees have prominent leaf buds ready for action – black for ash, sticky brown for horse chestnut.

January is also the time when ash keys – their seeds – start to fall off, though they take their time about it (even if, as in 2007, the month is very windy) and at the end of the month some are still left on their twigs. (2008 was an exception to this in that no ash seemed to produce seed the previous year, so there were none to fall).

Some plants even put out new foliage. Honeysuckle (for example on fencing along railway lines) bursts into leaf right from the beginning of the month (or even in late December), and privet, which in December still has some yellowing leaves (though it always seems to keep some of its foliage) also start to put out tiny new leaves (though not in cold 2010).

Elder, which often keeps a few leaves all winter as well, also puts out new shoots, which grow slowly as the spring progresses. Budleia shrubs also start to put out new leaves at the end of the month, and at the same time, cherry laurel (which looks like a rhododendrum) can also be seen pushing up the green spikes that will later become its flowers. (Again, none of these seen in cold January 2010: elder was quite bare of leaves all month.) All remaining ivy berries are now ripe and black, and on hedgerows you can still see old man's beard (the seeds of traveller's joy).

Birdsong explodes into life

For photos, sound clips and more information on birds mentioned in this section, see the RSPB website. Their sound clip of the great tit does not have its distinctive teacher-teacher song, however: for that see this BBC website.

January is an exciting time for birdwatching. After the silence of July and August, and the relative silence from September to December, the increase in birdsong is noticeable, as males of some species respond to the lengthening days by establishing their territories and starting to look for mates.

This is undoubtedly one of the subliminal factors that makes spring seem just around the corner on a bright sunny January day (and sunny days do also seem to increase birdsong somewhat: perhaps it cheers the birds up as much as it does us). Meanwhile the lack of foliage and the short days - which mean the birds have a limited time to feed and less time to hide from observers - makes this a great time to spot them.

The signature sound of January is the see-saw song of great tits (often described as “teacher, teacher, teacher” though this describes the intonation as much as the sound itself), which starts tentatively at the beginning of the month, with maybe brief experimental flurries, and then increases to become ubiquitous and prolonged by the end of the month (though in cold 2010 it was much more subdued). Great tits also make a variety of other sounds, including one that sounds like a repeated note and another that is a kind of "see-choo-choo". If you are not sure what is causing a particular burst of birdsong at this time of year, the great tit is a good guess.

The other very common sound is the twittering of robins, which definitely gets louder and more widespread in January. The boldness of these birds - they tend to adopt prominent perches and are relatively unafraid of humans - also makes them particularly easy to see. Year-round noises such as the chattering of goldfinches, the rattling of blue tits, and the simple cheeps of sparrows (the latter found almost exclusively near buildings) continue, but blue tits may also start to make their mating calls, and the amazing trills and squeaks of greenfinches seem to become more noticeable somehow (the pronounced "squeezgh" of the male, for example). The tiny "zip" of the long-tailed tit signals that a group of these restless birds are hopping through the branches over your head.

As in December, if you listen carefully you can hear the song of the dunnock (whose abrupt burst of song has been likened to the noise made by a badly oiled supermarket trolley). You may also hear a song thrush limbering up or even singing a full song (a wide variety of different sounds, each carefully repeated several times, being the clue here), but these outbursts never seem to be prolonged and do not occur everyday: it is almost as if the birds are practising for the mating season soon to begin.

The same might be true of green woodpeckers, who let out the odd laugh, and of greater spotted woodpeckers, who might drum on a tree to attract attention; again these are still occasional sounds at this time of year. Blackbirds, who will be the star turn next month, continue to graze on grass without giving any sign of the wonderful song they will soon be producing, though they can indulge in prolonged bouts of competitive "tup-tup-tupping" at sunset.

You can still see chaffinches in flocks at this time - you might get the odd "chink-chink" call out of one, though great tits make a similar noise too. If you look carefully at chaffinches, or other groups of finches, you may find some of them are yellow siskins - a Scandinavian finch that winters here. Likewise, a flock of thrushes on a bush or a lawn will be seen on closer inspection to be either fieldfares or redwings - thrushes from Scandinavia who are distinguised by their red markings.

Other birds to be seen include magpies, and the magnificently coloured jay, but these are silent in January. Not so flocks of rooks, which gather on arable fields and roost noisly in trees, or starlings, which can be seen wheeling in formation in enormous numbers towards sunset, particularly by the seaside. Up to 25,000 of them roost on Brighton pier, for example, many of them having migrated here for the winter from continental Europe.

© Peter Conway 2006 - updated 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010 • All Rights Reserved • From his South East of England Almanac