Saturday, 9 January 2010

Let it snow...

View from my bedroom window
I got up with a start this morning, excited, hoping that the forecast might be wrong (I know, pretty much a safe bet these days) - I pulled back the bedroom curtains and smiled.  For a few seconds I stood transfixed, happy, my eyes following the large fluffy snowflakes tumbling slowly down with childlike excitement - I love that 'big reset' the familiar built environment around me undergoes as it is wiped clean by the snow.  What I didn't realise this morning was that I had an audience; my neighbour removing the snow from his car below my bedroom window, he was kind enough to smile and wave. His stupid grin the last thing I saw as I launched myself backwards, embarrassed, ninja like (I wish) onto the still warm bed, wishing I had put on those pyjamas my mum was kind enough to give me for Christmas.

Undeterred by my inadvertent 'show', I washed and dressed in something warm, put on my scarf, hat, gloves and big woolly jacket and ventured out; picking up a newspaper an excuse to walk in the snow and indulge the child in me...

I love the snow, I am transported back to my 7 year old self every time it snows; I like walking in it, I feel more alive - the chill on my cheeks and the crunch underfoot an exquisite reminder of how beautiful this little watery world can be and how insignificant mankind is. I never fail to be startled by the anechoic characteristics of a snowbound environment, distant dominant noises suppressed and quiet close by sounds amplified and crystal clear in the unusually still air.  It's magic...

The adult in me, and the nihilistic anarchist, loves the fuckwittery a spell of bad weather brings out in normally well balanced folks and the great institutions of state and commerce.  A kick in the balls to hubris and delusional believers in their own omnipotence.

Bring it on: Economic disaster, public cattle-transport services rendered useless, plummeting footfall in the cathedrals of retail commerce, pathetic counter-intuitive Met Office lectures on climate vs weather by the acolytes of green fascism that raise more questions than they answer, power-plays over dust by government departments/agencies/councils, helf and safety nonsense of super-Daily-Mail proportions and the discovery of more English words than we knew to describe the cataclysm that is snow - our infantilised mainstream media and press laid bare and unable to say anything original, simply indulging in a repetitive spiraling nauseating weather based disaster chant.

Snow is my friend -

Let it snow...


  1. Hi Ed, seemingly, but the falling snow would have offered some modesty I hope.

  2. I love the snow too as does my dog, unfortunately he's cut his paw so can't go out for a few days and is mooching about nudging me towards the door every 5 mins.
    I'll be working nights tonight, should be interesting to see if I can get in, never mind get home ☺

  3. I agree absolutely. Snow is kind of anarchic, and the little wobble it gives to our daily routines is very welcome, in my view. I also think it is a kind of punctuation in the flow of the seasons. Without snow, the winter hasn't really happened, just like a sentence without a full stop

    I posted something similar myself, but not as well expressed, here:

  4. I like the snow for the sense of isolation it brings. It's also amusing because of the mass panic and whinging that follows a minor flurry. I went for a run today, Linlithgow Loch was frozen over, people walking on it.

    It's getting a bit boring now though....would be nice to see a hint of Spring and some greenery in the lightening evenings to come (now +30mins or so since the darkest evening).

  5. Loving it too, dark, crunching snow underfoot and the air heavy with smoke from a real fire instantly Im a child standing at my Great Grannies fishermans cottage near The Broch. Not so innocent now!

  6. Sounds great CD - I was disappointed by the un-forecast rapid thaw here today. :-(

  7. Heard at Fast Towers yesterday:

    "What's it like outside?"


    "What's 'mild'?"

    "Minus 3."

    "Bloody Hell."

  8. LOL Richard - positively balmy

  9. They're promising some more... so we'll probably have 30c temps tomorrow :(
    I love the snow too, I love the change to routine, I love other people panic-buying while I'm safe in the knowledge of the dried food I stored away when nobody was sure if the ATMs would be working tomorrow is still in the back of the cupboard, and most of all I like the feeling of superiority I get when I've walked into work and hardly anybody else has made it in...