Hm...
...
4850
Cardamom
Hmm...
Literal
4
S
3
Nature is made possible by the financial support of viewers like you, your gas company, and
the gas industry, whose respect for nature and the environment is reflected in the underwriting
of this series.
This gas industry provides 160 million people with clean gas energy all across the country.
And by Siemens, engineering solutions in electronic components and medical systems.
Telecommunications, energy and automation.
Siemens.
And by Canon.
Quality and innovation for the way we work and live.
Scandinavia.
Such a familiar part of Europe, we often forget just how far north it really is.
As far north as Alaska.
It's a mountainous peninsula, 1200 miles long, and fully one-third of it lies inside the
Arctic Circle.
But along the western coast of Norway, the inhospitable extremes of the Arctic are tempered
by the warm waters of the Gulf Stream.
In spite of the Gulf Stream's warming influence, these northern lands have not yet fully emerged
from the last ice age, which ended about 12,000 years ago.
Here in this relatively new glacial valley, you can actually feel the atmosphere created
by the retreating ice.
This rock, for example, was buried under thousands of tons of ice until very recently in geological
terms, only a few hundred years ago.
In fact, the glacier which created this wildly beautiful valley and which feeds this little
lake is still with us.
It's right up there.
The Bandhus Glacier here in western Norway.
Now in summer, with its winter coat of snow melted away, the incredible blue of its ancient
ice is fully revealed.
But the summers here are brief.
Soon, the snows and the howling winds of winter will return to Scandinavia.
Out of the dead world of the ice age, thousands of winters long, new northern lands emerged.
Touched by the novelty of changing seasons, they became a challenge to wildlife and people.
They are now true residents of the dark Lord of I books, of the
그러니까 da timelyas de Vedas aishes.
Oh
Each winter is still a bitter return to that frozen past, but for the ancient muskox,
unchanged since the ice age, it poses few problems. Cloaked in dense, multi-layered fur and hair,
they can withstand winds of 60 miles an hour and temperatures of minus 40 degrees.
They manage on the sparse vegetation buried beneath the snow and wait patiently for the fresh grasses of spring.
Also reminiscent of prehistoric times are today's ice caps. Once their glaciers flowed down to the sea,
but now they reach only the high mountain lakes.
For 100,000 years ice caps ruled the Northern Hemisphere,
but as the age of ice gave way to warming 12,000 years ago, the ice began to shrink
and one of the land masses to emerge was Scandinavia.
The Norwegian coast was flooded by melting ice. High mountain peaks emerged as islands.
The ocean and its life flooded into the newly made valleys.
Finally, the glaciers receded from the fjords they had carved and left a landscape for life to reclaim.
This icy remnant, the Joste Dalsbrid in the mountains of central Norway, is the largest ice cap in Europe,
spreading out over 380 square miles. 26 major glaciers reach down out of its frozen mass to the valleys below.
The Joste Dalsbrid is the largest ice cap in Europe,
and is the largest ice cap in the world.
The Joste Dalsbrid is the largest ice cap in Europe,
and is the largest ice cap in the world.
Glaciers are active by nature, sensitive to subtle changes in climate, always on the move.
They're restless and noisy under their own weight.
Under the immense pressure of its great weight, ice will flow.
Many years ago, this hard ice at the foot of the glacier fell as gentle snow 3,000 feet above.
Rocks plucked from the mountain armed the glacier like a diamond-studded tool.
Lubricating this grinding and cutting edge, the torrent clears away the gravel, grit, and fine rock powder.
After the Ice Age, Norway and Sweden were a slate-white clean, new lands for the taking,
but only by true pioneers able to eke out a living from this harsh frontier.
Conifers take on winter's combined assault of cold and drought.
Their evergreen needles resist drying and freezing,
and are ready to photosynthesize immediately at the start of the short growing season.
But encased in snow that melts and refreezes, some trees actually shatter from the cold.
The forest provides some shelter and concealment for this blue-coated Arctic fox.
Unlike its inland relatives, this fox of the coastal forest keeps its dark coat all year round.
The Arctic hare's white coat serves two purposes, camouflage and insulation.
It blends in with the snowy background, but is actually colorless,
reflecting sunlight and heat into air spaces inside each hare.
Perfect concealment is a key to survival here.
Despite its own feather comforter, the ptarmigan keeps still and conserves its energy
in a windchill that would freeze naked flesh in seconds.
Snow is not a shroud but a protective blanket,
and hides a bright and busy underworld of activity several degrees warmer than above.
Limmings need no camouflage, for they spend the winter in elaborate tunnels feeding on stored vegetation.
Limmings are prodigious breeders, but their numbers rise and fall in complex cycles
that mean feast or famine to many predators.
People followed the wildlife into these northern lands
and brought technologies and cultures to master this environment.
Here in Sweden, David and Helmer Nyberg still keep their traditional relationship with the forest,
but the old ways that fit so well with the seasonal rhythms of the north are dying out,
and the world around them is changing.
Yet here, at least for now, wildlife still comes close, encouraged of course by handouts of food.
Modern technology is replacing the old ways.
Instead of the axe of the solitary woodsman,
a mechanized industry now harvests vast tracts of Sweden's forests.
The regimented stands of pine and spruce that will replace the natural forests
are even more suited to this kind of clear cutting,
but they won't be allowed to grow long enough to become established homes for wildlife.
Such forest culture has made the Swedish pulp and paper industry economically successful.
Its appetite, however, may someday exceed the supply of trees.
But some wild creatures can adapt and find the new trees palatable.
Moose numbers are actually increasing in the northern woods.
Even the growth of hardy conifers is limited by cold,
and winter lasts a long time, well into April.
North of the forest, beyond the treeline, reindeer paw the frozen ground
in search of lichen buried beneath the snow.
The same species as North American caribou, they spar for their place in the herd,
setting off an avalanche of heavy spring snow.
So, is the voracious steppe Wight bend for sports?
Why not avoid normalized efforts in classmusic.
For
reindeer, avalanches may be the cruel edge of a spring thaw or just winter's final blow.
But for golden eagles and ravens, the frequent avalanches provide winter's only food.
So
Soon the carcass may be frozen solid, but nothing goes to waste.
Waking from a winter of sleep, an old male brown bear smells the forest again after a winter of
confinement. Cubs explore their second spring as only young bears can.
The newest bear arrival is still safely tucked up in the den nursing noisily.
It purrs like a running motor. High above the spruce forest, birch woods tolerate the
cold drought by losing their leaves. Now as days grow longer and shadows shorten once more,
the ptarmigan anticipates the continuing change, the eventual need for camouflage
in a landscape without snow. The female will soon match the summer hues of lichen and heath,
and will have no need for a snow nest or the insulation of its feathery feet.
Spring may come in fits and starts. Powder snow may melt and freeze again,
and make the great gray owls pursuit of voles more difficult. Voles are hard to catch through
the heavy crust. The great gray owl is a year-round inhabitant of these northern woods. Unlike most
owls, it can hunt as well in the light of the midnight sun as in the long darkness of an arctic
night.
Lapland.
In the far north of Norway and Sweden, well inside the Arctic Circle. By the end of April,
there's enough light at two in the morning to herd reindeer. Modern Lapland or Sami people still
follow the herds on their traditional migration. After a winter subsistence on snow-encrusted
lichen, the reindeer, only semi-domesticated, still respond to their instinctive need to change
to a more nutritious diet of grasses and sedges. These reindeer are of such great value to the Sami
people that the herd's instinct to migrate toward better grazing is given every assistance. The
Royal Norwegian Navy comes to help. In the old days, reindeer used to swim to summer pastures
on offshore islands. But after the long winter, they're weak and many were lost to the cold water.
For the last 20 years or so, the Navy has stepped in to provide them safe passage.
A castrated male trusted by the herd is used to encourage the wary.
Reindeer remain a vital part of Sami life and its traditions, celebrated in stories and songs.
Both does and bucks carry antlers, which are shed every year, a loss of bone-building calcium
that summer grazing will replace. Those especially need this nourishment, as they will soon be ready
to calf. Reindeer are a Sami's wealth and every new calf is a valuable asset.
In autumn, when these animals return, they'll be in prime condition after summer grazing and will
swim back without the help of the Norwegian Navy.
Pools of water slowly melt from the ice and snow. It's May. High in the remaining snow fields,
the first calves of the year have already been born. But late snowstorms and frosts can endanger
the lives of newborns. Spring in the mountains of Norway is fickle.
The calf is protected by its mother. Safely protected by its mother, this calf's immediate
troubles are over.
For others, a major trial of life is just beginning. The air is still cold and made colder by the wind.
The does dry their new calves, securing the bond between them before the calves begin to nurse.
Every year, the reindeer return to the familiar security of this particular place,
where the grazing is nourishing and where they can give their calves a head start
in what will be an arduous life.
With spring comes the first bright splash of color, the purple saxophrydge.
Now that winter's drought is broken, plants can make the most of the ever-longer days.
Harry leaves help retain heat and moisture that would be whipped away by the wind.
Mosses grow together into a windbreak, protecting other plants. Inside their own miniature
greenhouses, flowers can expand to attract pollinating insects and seeds can mature.
Soil forms slowly between the frost-shattered stones of the highest mountains.
The glacier buttercup clings to what soil there is.
Heathers, with their tightly rolled and overlapping leaves, are perfectly adapted to a land where
exposure to wind and cold prevails.
One frequent adaptation to the short season is that very few arctic plants produce seeds.
Despite its flower, these bulblets of the knotweed did not result from insect pollination.
They're actually a miniature plant that will drop off and grow immediately.
Meanwhile, arctic rhododendrons hug the hill, staying low out of the wind.
Beyond the arctic circle, midsummer night is day. This is the midnight sun, and these are its lands.
Here, much has to be achieved before summer's end.
Featureless as the tundra may appear in the twilight, it has a geography that the male
great snipe knows well. It competes with its neighbors for prime territories.
Of all the native life of the tundra, the most infamous member is about to emerge.
If the larvae of mosquitoes and midges were not so successful at growing in this austere
environment, fewer birds would come to the far north to plunder them every summer.
They hurry here over thousands of miles, and this is what they expect to find.
So
it's this extraordinary amount of insect food that gives so many chicks their first meal.
With one chick hatched and the other about to, the long-tailed scua takes advantage of this rich diet.
So
so
hatching is instinctively synchronized to the availability of insects.
It also coincides with the emergence of lemmings, which bred beneath the snow.
Despite their diminutive size, lemmings rarely back down from a fight and turn into tiny
furies when cornered. If enough lemmings can be caught, both these chicks should survive
and justify the adults' instinctive decision to breed at all.
So
among the ancient features hidden in this subtle landscape
are the dens of arctic foxes used year after year.
These cubs are the latest descendants of a family that has lived among this glacial moraine for many generations.
As adults, they're lone hunters, but as cubs, they're social and playful.
Except for feeding them, the vixen remains aloof.
Among the jumble of the moraine, she visits a cache of lemmings and ptarmigan chicks.
Storing food is a precaution against any temporary shortage.
Once hearts have gone to sleep, lots are gathered to fish the fish.
This short summer is not quite spent.
On this remote lake, a lone pair of Hooper swans has hatched their signets in the daylight
of Midsummer's Eve.
Their hatching is another finely tuned link with an environment that must provide food
over a few short weeks if the young are to survive.
The nutritious pollen-rich cones of horsetails are well within reach of the adult.
The signets, for the time being, are obliged to feed at the surface, relying on what small
food the adults disturb or paddle up from the shallow lake bed.
Instinct programs wildlife to exploit this harsh but usually predictable environment,
and people too have had to adjust to the extremes of light and temperature.
They too must make a living from the same short summer.
Torleif Nesia's Lowland family farm has sustained many generations.
This summer flush of silage will be stored for winter feed when the cattle are kept inside.
Torleif has another farm up in the mountains that helps them tap the wild resources, and
in summer that's where the cows are, busy turning birch and aspen leaves and upland
pasture into milk.
A farmer must make the fruits of the short summer provide for the whole year.
All the milk is used, even the whey when caramelized with added cream becomes a tasty brown traditional
cheese.
Ahh good!
But if Torleif is to make the most of the short season, he has to march to the season's
time.
With silage stored for winter, he has other wild harvests to secure before the first snow
flurries of September arrive.
The young friends of the family help and enjoy the experience of traditional farming.
They seem to have everything under control.
Production of the much-valued butter and cheese is on schedule.
Torleif and Edar net the lake trout that have fattened on the mosquitoes and midges of summer.
Salted down, they will supplement the variety of cheeses available through the winter.
But winter's larder will not be complete without pursuing one last harvest, a final
link in the chain of life that captures the energy of these mountain wastes.
And as you Premium
Wild reindeer are wary.
Several days stalking may be needed
to bring them close enough.
Hunting is carefully controlled
to conserve the wild herds.
Only certain animals may be shot.
A license limits torelief's prey
and prevents the taking of too many reindeer.
The herds are very active.
When hitting, full speed著 Cross tout.
Quite strong país.
Ramers will be deployed
in several places.
Taking only what's needed is a natural unwritten sporting law.
It helps ensure that future generations may look forward to continued sport and provision
for winter. It's a careful balance between man and nature,
which demands respect for the prey.
Every fourth year or so, the population of lemming soars.
Not even all their predators or lack of food can depress their numbers.
In those lemming years, tales of plagues and mass suicide arise to embellish these quite
natural population explosions.
They become hyperactive, dispersing in nervous haste.
In their quest to find space, they are fearless, crossing rivers and lakes with feisty determination.
Cold hastens the autumn tinge of birch trees and dwarf shrubs.
The grasses die back to reveal a luxuriant summer growth of lichen that frosts the high
plateau, just in time for the wild reindeer to graze.
Because lichen can extract nutrients straight out of the air, they flourish in these poor
soils. And because reindeer feast on lichen, they
were among the first animals to recolonize northern Scandinavia as the Ice Age dwindled
away. They in turn enabled people to live here, providing
food and skins for clothing and shelter. Scandinavia is still emerging from its frozen
past, and as the climate becomes warmer, the tundra too may change and someday give way
to forest. Until then, the autumn rut keeps faith with
the rhythms of the north.
Stags make their traditional challenge for the right to mate as the life of the herd
moves in time with the seasons.
They anoint their hind legs with urine to make their challenge that much more potent.
The stags follow the does, detecting by scent which ones are receptive.
They have been preparing all year for these few weeks, growing impressive antlers and
building up reserves for the rut. Come spring, the does will give birth to the offspring
of the fittest.
Now, the days are growing short. The midnight sun has set for another year, and soon the
long arctic night will settle over the land.
Nature is made possible by the financial support of viewers like you.
And by Siemens, engineering solutions in electronic components and medical systems.
Telecommunications, energy and automation. Siemens.
And by Canon, quality and innovation for the way we work and live.
And by the gas industry, helping provide cleaner air with clean gas energy.
This is PBS.