Playing in the snow
Some thoughts inspired by the cold weather we’ve been having
Sometimes when you wake up in the morning you know it’s snowed just from the sound. Everything’s muffled. It’s like someone’s spread a freshly laundered duvet over the everything.
You know it’s cold when:
- you’re wearing five layers.
- all the water in your watering can has frozen.
- your car door has frozen shut.
- breathing makes your teeth ache.
- the snow’s dry enough for you to see the individual flakes really clearly.
- you’re stamping your feet.
- your nose is running but you don’t have a cold.
- you can see your breath.
- everyone of any age is a kid.
- after a walk out your fingers are extra wrinkly.
- your stride length has shortened.
- people in London are smiling.
What quality do you need to thrive in low temperatures?
Grit.
We went to the top of the Shard, the tallest building in London. The view was as good as you might imagine, but the snow intensified it, like a high contrast filter on reality.
What’s beautiful, unique and able to bring a country to a standstill when it acts collectively?
A snowflake.
Towards a non-gendered alternative to snowman:
Snowperson. Snowpeep. Snowcitizen. Snowhuman. Snowsapien. Snowape. Snowmonkey. Snowbody.
Some dogs love the snow, slush puppies. Others struggle. Our office sausage dog has to be carried because he’s effectively a mop and would need wringing out after only a few steps.
I walked back home from school with my boy in the snow and he realised that he’d been provided with a blank canvas, and that he could use this to paint soft graffiti on anything that had a covering. It’s something that a lot of people do, it makes the city a warmer place to be.
A snowman is the fever dream of a puddle.
