Back to work today. My other half suggested that a fall of snow would be a nice way to start our industrious efforts of the New Year. Whilst I am far from ‘bah humbug’ where Christmas is concerned, the same spirit does not stretch to such inclement weather.
Living on one of Brighton’s numerous hills, I’m not a fan of snow. Don’t get me wrong, when it arrives and the town looks like a belated Christmas card, then it’s a joyous sight. It’s the days of the daunting challenge of the icy Hanover hill, twice daily, that I fear the most. I’ve slipped twice and injured myself on its sleepy slopes. I know many folk are inclined to forget this as snow brings such a special feel to it, but when the long range forecast shows that the winter weather is to be nothing more than the usual rain and cold I feel quite content with that.
I once wrote a short poem to observe nature’s dark opinion on this:
However, the snow I like came in April 2008 on a Sunday morning. For a few hours it lingered, thick and picturesque, then whilst I was at work in the afternoon warm spring sunshine arrived and a few hours later only the rooftops gave any clue about the weather that morning. Now that is my kind of snow.
As I said, Brighton does look nice in a thick blanket of the white stuff- a few pictures of what I hope not to see are below….