London Snow

London Snow

"When men were all asleep the snow came flying  In large white flakes falling on the city brown

Stealthily and perpetually settling and loosely lying, Hushing the latest traffic of the drowsy town..."

These are the opening lines from one of my favourite poems, "London Snow," by Robert Bridges. I was first introduced to it by my speech and drama teacher, whilst I was living in Durban, and I was instantly captivated by its imagery and the way Bridges illustrates the beauty and stillness after a fall of snow. 

However, after my return to the U.K. in 1970, I have since learned there is another side to snow; beauty there is, certainly, but also a savagery and harshness and, with today's constant flow of traffic, a danger that is ever present when roads turn icy and people are out and about in their cars, and lorries are going about their business, transporting loads from depots to delivery sites, not to mention buses and cyclists and motor bikers. 

Last weekend saw us spend a couple of nights away in Colchester, attending a dance practice with Starlight Dancing on the Friday, and the Christmas Ball on the Saturday night. The dancing is held in the Marks Tey village hall, which is 50 miles away from home, so we decided that, rather than attempt to travel back each evening, we would make a pre-Christmas break of it, and book two nights at the Holiday Inn in Colchester. 

As the weather got even colder, with swathes of icy blasts dragged in from the arctic, it was obvious it was a very good decision! We had a very short drive from the hotel to the venue, and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves; we had good company - sitting at our table were two couples we first met earlier this year, at the dancing holiday in Torquay - and Bob also won a spot prize in one of the quickstep dances, which was a lovely surprise!

Sunday morning dawned bright and very cold, but no matter; we had a good breakfast, packed our bags and our dancing shoes, and set off for home at about 1.00 p.m. 

As we drove, the weather started to show signs of change; there was fog, then freezing fog, and it was terribly cold. We were glad to get in, get the central heating thermostat raised up to a higher temperature, and generally snuggle in for the night.

And during the night, the snow arrived. Two and a half inches - 5 centimeters - of it, covering our garden.

It looked beautiful, and indeed, the snow hushed sound; even the magpies stayed in their nests and did not venture out to steal any of the food we put out to feed the stray cats we keep fed, especially during these harsh times. 

We also had a dancing lesson booked for the morning, but before we left, our lovely teacher rang us to say, she was going to cancel the session; the roads leading to the dance hall are not main roads, and therefore not all are gritted, and they can be very tricky to negotiate, so we were very grateful for her thoughtfulness. 

Then the reports started coming through on the television news, about problems on the roads - even the A roads, like the A12, were experiencing difficulties, and there were accidents on the M25, with terrible delays for everyone attempting to drive somewhere. 

How glad we were we did not have to go anywhere! and over the past few days, our temperatures have been recorded as low as minus 5 degrees. Bob has braved going to the shops for groceries, but we do not travel far. Even during the day, the thermometer struggles to get above freezing. 

So, yes, this is indeed London Snow. Beautiful and hushed, but also treacherous and slippery.
It is now starting to thaw a little, when the sun comes out and shines on it to melt the top layer, but then of course it freezes again overnight, and the ice crystals glitter in the next morning's sunshine.

We are promised an improvement: warmer weather at the weekend, with rain, and then perhaps we shall have plus 9 (!) degrees, instead of minus figures, to contend with.

As someone who grew up in East Africa, I feel the cold terribly, but with this severe weather, I have not been alone in finding it difficult to cope. We have not even had the shortest day yet, but once that passes, and - however imperceptibly - the days begin to lengthen, surely we can start to look forward to spring!