Sunday, 20 January 2013


Snow has come. Proper stuff. Thick, fluffy, clumpy, chilly, pretty stuff. 

It's in its early stage when, though inconvenient, it beguiles you with how beautiful it makes everything look. A kid's paradise.

I watched the children throwing snowballs and dragging themselves round in sledges just as I used to do at their age. Though I can't take part now that I am of advanced, brittle-boned years I can enjoy the fun of it by absorbing some of theirs.

I've a photo of my baby granddaughter looking out at the snow which had mysteriously messed up her usual view from the lounge window and almost hidden her tree from sight. She was puzzled and trying to make sense of it. Her very first encounter with the strange white blanket.

I found an anonymous poem which sums it up: 

See the pretty snowflakes
Falling from the sky;
On the wall and housetops
Soft and thick they lie.
On the window ledges,
On the branches bare;
Now how fast they gather,
Filling all the air.
Look into the garden,
Where the grass was green;
Covered by the snowflakes,
Not a blade is seen.
Now the bare black bushes
All look soft and white,
Every twig is laden,
What a pretty sight!

Snow heart photo by Tina Phillips

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