Let It Snow

Living in the south-east of England, a ‘snow day’ is not something that comes around too often. I can count on one hand the days I had off school because of snow as a child. On most occasions, it was so light the buses still ran and we begrudgingly pulled on our wellies and made the trek in. (Slipping on the ice and falling over in the bus park in front of half the school is a memory that will stay with me forever!) Even so, the excitement every time the first drops of snow fell never waned. 

Perhaps because of its rarity, there is still something ineffably magical about snowfall for me. Waking up to the sound of complete calm, as if the volume has been turned down on the world for a while. Drawing back the curtains and shielding my eyes as the light reflects off the crisp blanket covering everything in sight. The urge to simultaneously run out into the middle of it all, lay down and make a snow angel, but also stay firmly indoors, wrapped up in a blanket in front of the fire. There’s nothing else like it.

In England, however, we’re notorious for complaining about the snow. It’s as though Armageddon has occurred overnight. No household is prepared, every road is treacherous. But, before the complaining begins there is always, however small, a moment of wonder, excitement and nostalgic childhood joy which nothing else can quite match. 

When it snowed here on Sunday – having been promised another ‘Beast from the East’ – it still managed to take my breath away. But I was reluctant to go out walking in it at first. Being locked down alone with my parents, the thought of having the house to myself for around an hour, snuggled up inside with the snow falling beyond the window, sounded like bliss. But somewhere deep down my childish excitement made me too restless to resist getting out there and seeing the magic myself. I wasn’t disappointed.

When I woke up this morning and a fresh blanket of snow had fallen, I was ecstatic. Somehow the snow turned every mundane task of the day into something enjoyable. As much as I’m counting down the hours until it’s Spring again, and the lighter days and evenings make lockdown a little more bearable, the beauty of the snow outside my window during these couple of snow days has really lifted my spirits. It’s hard not to get distracted by the mesmerising flurries of snowflakes as I sit and write this. But it’s made me feel so much more positive. I’m not reluctant to admit that I’m finding this third lockdown incredibly difficult, but focusing on the positive things that are happening, however small, can be a huge comfort.

I know the snow will be fleeting and probably disappear overnight as quickly as it arrived. So I’m making the most of every second. Its magic has been a calming reminder of the beauty and power of nature at a time when life has been feeling increasingly narrow and dark. I’ve breathed more easily the past two days. It’s been like being a child again.

I’ll be heading out for my daily walk again soon to give my wellies another outing and to soak up every ounce of wonder and excitement to keep with me through the following difficult weeks.    

Feature image by Jack Skinner on Unsplash.