Last night we had tickets to see 'Neighbourhood Watch' at the theatre in Cambridge; snow had been forecast to fall at some time on Saturday and it seemed as if the whole country was 'on amber alert' as the Met Office had labelled it, but undeterred we drove into town and as we neared the outskirts of Cambridge the first skimpy flakes were flying past the car windscreen.
At the interval we bought our ice-creams and stood at the theatre door watching the snow accumulate, the street was white and huddles of bicycles were disappearing under fluffy white blankets of snow. The mood of the audience returning to their seats, was a mix of excitement and slight trepidation of what the journey home would be like . . .
. . . a tad hairy to be honest! Cliff seemed confident driving my 'tardis' with it's new winter wheels, but as we passed a rather crunched little hatchback we worried about whether the car behind us would be able to brake without sliding into the back of us!
As we headed out over the Gog Magog Hills we were almost alone on the road, the snow was coming down thick and fast and by the time we turned down the little country lane to the village we were relieved to have made it to within easy walking distance of home, should we have got stuck . . . which we didn't.
This morning I peeped trough the curtains and this was the scene . . .
Bright sun and freezing temperatures would have made everything sparkle, well you can't have everything . . . the palette of white, greys and umbers has its own beauty. When we saw that the road through the village had actually been gritted! (at 7am it hadn't so Cliff had decided not to join his walking group 20 miles away) we decided to go for walk up through the village and out the other side.
At the top of the hill we had a choice, salted or unsalted . . .
. . . we took the road less traveled
And I had fun taking lots of photos of the twiggy textures and distant woods.
I think this next one is my favourite . . .
Near the village playing field are two trees which always seem to hold on to there fruits right through the winter
and underneath, a Robin was thankful of a snack.
Back home, the snow outlines pruned structures and bright stems glow – the garden is unfamiliar under its coating of snow.
The hens are confused – most of them chose not to leave the hen-house; but Pearl was out and about – but not at all sure of what to make of this snow stuff!
My hunch is the snow won't stay around for long, we'll be back to chilly, muddy February very soon.
In the mean time, I'm going to spend the rest of the afternoon sitting by a cosy fire and looking at the snow-scene while it lasts.
PS someone's just mentioned going for another walk to see if we can spot the Barn Owls hunting in the snow - mmm? might be worth doing before I get snuggled down ;-) Naah! tea and biscuits by the fire won!
Shadows & Reflections – Malcolm Anderson
1 hour ago