MUSINGS FROM THE BOWER 53

 

Have you had any snow this winter?  Nor have we, though apparently it’s on its way.  I like snow, I like the way it hides all the ugliness, transforming litter, cars and wheelie bins under a glistening white blanket. I must admit, though, I am not so keen on going out in it – oh, I’m fine walking through snowy parks or fields, but I don’t like walking on slippery, mushy pavements.

What I do love are snow globes, those glassy balls that incorporate tiny flakes of snow which can be transformed from a gentle flutter to a positive blizzard depending on how hard you shake the globe. Magical, enchanting and very tactile, these little transparent snowy globes have intrigued children and adults for years. It’s virtually impossible to pass a display of snows globes without picking up at least one and shaking it, to watch the snow whirl madly around before it gradually settles. Sometimes they are made from glass, though nowadays the globes are frequently moulded from plastic, and each contains an ornamental figure which becomes hidden amongst a flurry of snow or glitter when agitated.

Yet, although these toys have enchanted people for generations, no-one seems to know for sure exactly when snow globes were first made. Certainly the Victorians enjoyed them and collected them as souvenirs of their travels, while some of the earliest were displayed an ‘all nations’ exhibition in Paris in 1878, but they must have been manufactured for several years beforehand. Nowadays snow globes, or snowstorms or snow shakers as many people call them, are becoming extremely sophisticated, and many contain musical movements, animated figures, glitter, lights or even a mechanism to do the shaking for you. Some hold tiny fans to whirr polystyrene snow from within, but that really is the height of laziness!

At one time children often found a snow globe in their stocking at Christmas, but now they have gained a new lease of life and can be found in gift shops and tourist attractions, sometimes with glitter replacing the ‘snow’. Have you ever wondered what the snow is made of, and why it doesn’t fall straight to the bottom of the globe when it is shaken? Well, before the advent of plastic, globes were made from glass, using various substances for snow such as ground-up bone, ceramic dust, sand or ground rice, but today both globe and snow are often plastic. Apparently, the correct technical term for the snow is flitter! The liquid inside is usually water mixed with glycol to thicken it slightly, thus keeping the snow in suspension a bit longer.

Snow globes aren’t always round - in the 1940s a German manufacturer experimented with various shapes and decided that a compressed oval shape was less likely to break than the traditional globe. Before then, the majority of them were spherical and could be viewed from any angle, which meant they needed to contain a three-dimensional sculpture or figurine. With the advent of the new shape, half of the dome was painted (normally blue) to create a back drop, and because flat-backed figures could be then used, it lead to a saving in labour. It meant that the backs of the figures didn't need to be painted and the figures could easily be stamped from plastic.  Although globes are still made, the oval shape is very common, especially for the cheaper plastic ranges. Rectangular, bullet, cube, bottle, octagonal, cylindrical, conical, lantern and egg-shaped are just a few of the other shapes encountered. Interestingly, many other designs inside snow globes go back several decades – only recently I saw one on sale containing the figure of a little angel with a fawn, identical in every way to one which I was given (and still own) in 1957.

This time last year we had thick snow, and I took lots of photographs in the garden and park. The bare trees against a wintry sky looked bleak and cheerless, and the ice was thick and treacherous on the paths. I remember that the only thing to break up the white and grey of the scene was a perky little robin, red breast glowing defiantly against the element, singing his heart out. I am sure that someone, somewhere, will have produced a robin in a snow globe; I must keep a lookout.