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A confusion of snow

A Sunday morning is suddenly confounded by the gentle falling of snow in the suburbs. 

It was forecast, and therefore not unexpected. It was also preceded by a spectacular sunrise (not witnessed myself but shared online by more larkish neighbours) and then an ominous grey. We could now confidently and wisely predict the imminent arrival of the white stuff. 

Sure enough, as I finished the washing up and made my second cup of coffee, down came the first large flakes. Now an hour or so later, we have full coverage. Even the stubborn wet patio has succumbed to a blanket, at least until the precipitation stops or turns to rain. 

There is something magical about snow. Even now, I get a feeling of excitement when it arrives. I don’t know why, exactly. I can absolutely remember the aching cold as a child, when we ventured up the nearby hill on the very edge of the Cotswolds with our makeshift sledges to join with everyone else in throwing ourselves down the best slopes for brief thrills until, as rapidly as our best descent, our inadequate wool mittens and lack of thermal socks forced us back home, whingeing loudly. 

Even as an adult in more recent years, I have hoofed it over to Richmond Park to perform snow angels and then regretted not wearing a fully waterproof coat. Despite the vast improvements in outer- (and under-) wear thermal technology over the years, mistakes can still be made and I’m sure my hands are more sensitive now anyway. 

Yet, despite the clear memories of cold and bone-ache and damp, I still become over-excited. Running around the house, taking pictures from each window as I expect it will stop and all disappear very quickly. I am going to have to go outside soon too. Ridiculous.

There is quite a silence when I poke my nose outside. Just the occasional siren (we live very near to the hospital so this is normal, although somehow more worrying in these Covid times) and some cheery toddler chuckles as people walk past on their way to the Park, no doubt.

One thought though – I am glad my next-door neighbour got her Coronavirus jab yesterday rather than having to venture out either on foot or in the car on the no-doubt treacherous roads. There will be many others with appointments today. Sigh. There’s always a negative somewhere isn’t there?

But it’s still beautiful, so I will enjoy it while I can.

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