And just a little bit more, just for good measure.
Then, when we weren’t looking, there was some more snow.
Then a teensy bit more.
It turns out there are kinds of snow. They aren’t actually making it up when they say that various native northern peoples have 50 words for snow, bearing in mind they are all names for different kinds of snow. We experienced happy little snow flakes, which dance down from the clouds swirling and twirling on their merry way. Fun, light hearted snow that doesn’t really carry with it the heart of winter. It there was ever going to be snow in summer, this would be it.
Then there was normal snow, which just comes down, occasionally irritating. But still it gets lit up when it drops by street lamps, and does look like something slightly mystical. Particularly for those of us who didn’t grow up with snow.
Then there was heavy snow. Snow with a vengeance and a plan. Snow with a mission. This is the snow that’s going to wend its way into the crack between your hood and beanie. That’s going to collect on your bag and wait for just the right moment to fall inside, ideally on your camera. Snow with enough weight to get caught on your glasses and melt sufficiently so you can’t see anything, somehow worse than rain. It’s snow that manages to make you look like yeti. It was still fun though, and very easy to catch and eat as it falls down.
After just a few days of snow it was almost impossible to imagine anything else. The mountains have always been white, the road always white, the fox tracks were always there. But apparently in other parts of the world, in fact just a little south, it’s not the case. Down there the leaves are only just starting to change, or if you want to go further down, down to home, it’s starting to warm up. Whilst it was snowing like there was no tomorrow on me areas of my home country were starting to burn. Houses, cars and people lost in hot blazes. Even though I’ve been there, seen fires, smelt and heard them, it’s almost impossible to imagine it being that bad. And yet it is. Shame I can’t send them some of my snow.
p.s re: Snow. Children, don’t eat yellow snow. Why? Ask your parents, but really, don’t do it.