Winter Mist Shades
I wouldn’t be British if I didn’t take a moment to note the fact that we’ve had quite a bit of snow here this week, so here it goes: please accept the pictures of our drive home from school the other day…
To be honest, it’s not as pretty as it looks – mostly because my fingers are so cold, even in gloves, that I worry they’ll slide off in the gloves themselves, but also because, in my experience, snow is always more better in theory than in practice: even in small quantities, like this one.
(And also because Max likes to run school as an opportunity to have some of his more awkward conversations: like when he asked me who “Grand old chooking York” was, say. Or this morning, when he alerted Terry with the news that someone had defecated in “cubicle” at school We’re led to believe that the “cubicle” in question is NOT a toilet cubicle, so this is definitely some of the most unfortunate/interesting news, depending on who you talk to.)
(Update: it seems the suspect has now been identified, but Max won’t tell us who he is, as it’s a secret. This is the biggest scandal to hit the village since someone was offered salad cream at the corner shop, let me tell you.)
After all, I’m talking about snow, and how disappointing for me as an adult: a bit like meeting someone beautiful then discovering that’s all they have to offer.
Beauty is literally all that snow has to offer. Beauty and… well, inconveniences, Is it right. Hats and gloves huddled on the radiator. Mountain of wet coats and boots in the hall. A blanket of snow on the velux windows that makes it feel like night even in the middle of the day. The feeling that normal services are suspended, whether you want it or not. To be honest, I’m not a fan.
But this boy is:
For him, the snow is still as magical as it seems in these photos. She won’t always feel that way, of course (especially if she looks like me in this), but for now I’m leaving these pictures here so she can one day look back and remember that one fine December afternoon. random as we walked. came home from school on the first snowfall of the year. Sometimes I think these are the things that make up the most important memories…
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