Just as the 49th parallel separating Canada from the US and the 100th meridian, “where the great plains begin” as sung by The Tragically Hip are markers of sorts, so too is “north of 60”, undoubtedly due in part to the CBC series of the same name about life in a northern community. The prairie provinces end and Canada’s Yukon, Northwest and Nunavut territories begin at 60.
It’s interesting to imagine that Eesti, dragged due west would lie in the Nunavik region of Northern Québec between Ungava and Hudson’s Bays where “sparse black spruce, larch and fir trees give way to the more shrublike flora of the Arctic tundra.”. Or would meet Churchill Manitoba, “the polar bear capital of the world”. Thanks to Canadians’ trusty companion the Weather Network we know better than to compare weather systems brewing on the huge land mass that is North America to cycles brewing and spewing off the North Atlantic and its flirtatious gulf stream – not in the same climatic ballpark. But Kuusalu and Kuutsemäe do share sun times, the long summer days and practically non-existent winter ones, with places like Kuujjuaq.
On Dec. 1 the sun rose in Tallinn at 8.50 and set at 15.29. (NB > in Europe time is designated using the 24-hour clock instead of am / pm and hours and minutes are separated with a period instead of a colon.) The darkest days will bring along their antidote Christmas, with a smidge over 6 hours of day/sunlight (9.16 to 15.22) on Dec. 20 vs. Toronto’s 9+ hours. IF the sun can beat the odds, since the Baltic Sea transports an incredible cloud cover this time of year, not just Germans and Swedes in search of holiday goodies. (Go check out EMHI’s satellite picture on the web.)
It may take some getting used to, but it’s not hardcore: Icelanders will have to make due with 4 hours of light at Christmas and then there is the currently omnidark Svalbard. North of the Arctic Circle, the Norwegian archipelago’s hearty crew of 2500 live in perpetual darkness from October 26 to February 15.
Toronto lies at 43 degrees north, the parallel which brushes the south of France and the port city of San Benedetto del TRONTO on the east coast of Italy. Here too, winter means people usually get home from school and work in the dark and so pedestrian reflectors, a part of winter attire in Nordic countries for over 30 years, are now spreading to places like Australia and the UK. Small wonder then that the Moscow, Idaho pedestrian safety webpage promotes reflectors made in (where else but) Finland, where they became mandatory winter gear as of January 2003.
The helkur blitz is on in full force in Estonia as well (from the verb helkima, meaning to shimmer). They are distributed free to schoolchildren and you can be fined for not wearing one on an unlit road. Not a moment too soon either, since 13 pedestrians have been killed here this year alone, 8 of them were walking on highways after dark. By wearing a reflector, a pedestrian can be visible at 150 metres with low beam headlights, as compared to only 30 metres without one. The number of pedestrian traffic fatalities have been drastically reduced in countries where wearing reflectors is the norm. Local Estonian kindergarten kids now wear matching yellow reflector vests when out together as a group. (Like an army of little crossing guards.)