The New Year has roared in like, well, more of a snow leopard than a lion. We are (happily) marooned for the time being, allowing time for reading, thinking, resolving (as is appropriate for this time of year) and acknowledging just how privileged we are to have food, heat and no urgent appointments.
After three days of being battered by the weather, horizontal snow drifting across the road, carving itself into fancy shapes and blocking every entry and exit (something actually exacerbated by the snowploughs that come through every now and again, heaving the excess into any available gateway and piling it onto the verges so the wind can simply blow it across the road again),
so after all of that, today the clouds parted, the sun shone brilliantly across acres of sparkly white and the wind eased back a little.
We (me and our two increasingly limpy, tired old dogs) walked to the top of the road (the top field being inaccessible, the snow too high for them to push through)) and savoured the winter wonderland vista, all the while wincing as what breeze there was (moderate the Met Office called it - ha!) threw handfuls of snow at us, mottling the dog`s black hair.
Bracing would be the word, though none the worse for that, refreshing would be another though I suspect the dogs could find others. They know we are about to make one more foray out there and as I write are avoiding my eye and stretched out as near to the fire as they can, playing dead. However, nature calls (for them obvs), I can hear the wind getting up again, there is some blue sky left but the clouds are regrouping and the light is beginning to go so once more unto the breach.
Meanwhile, the resolutions are the same as every year: good books are still being written, (currently on Ian McEwan`s What We Can Know, an uncomfortable but I suspect prescient account of the dystopian future we might be walking into), there are films to watch, music to listen to, podcasts to stimulate the brain and more winter wonderland walks to be taken. Watch this space.
Postscript: survived the final stroll, just in time to see the moon emerging from behind a cloud. A rather magical moment: icy, momentarily still, a peaceful interlude.
