Snow at Last…

I do so love the snow; I always have.

Very occasionally we would have a white Christmas in London and when we did my holiday was made.

I suppose living in the city with public transportation made travel easier in regards to not having to personally worry about slippery roads, poor visibility, perished pedestrians and other driving hazards.

The snow never seemed to cause me to change my schedule and as far as I remember school never closed…I attended a boarding school so of course not…however I do remember being without letters for several days because the postman couldn’t get through.

Which was a bit of an annoyance.

In the elevated city of Tehran (Iran) we all had chains or snow tyres on our motor vehicles.  We children walked down the middle of the road where the buses, land rovers, lorries and cars had cleared pathways through the ice…everyone did… it felt quite safe.

Or, if we were feeling frisky we linked arms to test our balance on the treacherous pavements.  Ice and snow were there to stay for the winter so we had to make adjustments and get on with it otherwise we’d get nothing done!

When I came to America, specifically Texas (a state renowned for its blistering heat), I was surprised by the general reaction to snow.

Everyone ground to a halt and complained and grumbled.

Closures were announced on the public radio stations and television.

Those brave enough to venture out slithered and slid in their ill-equipped cars along the free-ways,

Children raced down slopes and hills on scraps of cardboard and sleds, freed for the day from school.  Snow days are built into the academic calendars here…unheard of where I grew up!

Last morning I arose as usual to put the kettle on and opened the bedroom blinds,


“Snow!” I croaked in my morning voice.

“No!” said Hubs rising up on his elbow to peer outside.  “Oh no!” he groaned and fell back on his pillow as if he had travel plans that had just been ruined.

I suppose I must have a child-like fascination for snow.  Our homeschool would cease so we could watch, or walk, or play in its feathery lightness.

Hubs worked from home and we were in walking distance of a grocery store, if necessary, so no fear of  running out of staples!

I hurriedly put on my slippers and dragged a down coat over my pajamas and went outside to photograph the vision that had snuck down from the north on the back of a 27 mph wind and settled, fair and square, on our meadows and boughs.


Once outside all I could see in the early brightness was the beautification of the trees; their gnarly silhouettes transformed into glittering pieces of art.

Not a complete covering but enough to crunch under my sheepskin clad feet,

and freeze the bird feeder,


and huddle along the edges of one of the screen doors.


Later, when I walked, the wind was fierce and piercing, it shoved against me freezing my coat fastenings and my eyes,

pressing the snow it was carrying in its pockets onto the electric pylons and tree trunks,


swirling a winter coat over the horizontal limbs and branches,


and tucking sparkling flakes around hay bales before dashing across the lane.


Snow at last, borne on a boisterous and wild wind.

I do so love it!

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2019-02-04 19:35:58 Reply


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