Snow!

The past week has seen the UK mainland transform under a blanket of snow. Once familiar landmarks disappeared under a mantle that softened edges and reflected light back from all angles. Trees are bowing under the weight, birds coming up to the door step and people talking to other people that they've hardly seen before, let alone actually spoken to.
So while many in the walking and backpacking world are excited and optimistic about the possibilities for walking (if they can actually make it out to the countryside), I took the opportunity to walk around the village where I live, on the South East fringe of Sheffield, and to enjoy this rare time.

On this particular wander I passed an ancient orchard in the village which has been under the preserve of a local environment group. It is carefully managed with many varieties of apple suited to the area, and the grass under the trees, and now under the snow, being carefully grazed by Highland cattle and sheep. Coming across the orchard today I was more in mind of a much more northern landscape, not one just north of the Midlands. It was startlingly beautiful, the light clear and crisp and threw into relief the shapes formed by the snow.

Later in the day I walked to the local church, the sunshine had long gone and was replaced by flat, grey, snow laden clouds. I had to kick steps into the steps leading up to the churchyard; large flag stone steps had been replaced by a slick slope where others had been a day or so before. Unexpectedly the pattern of snow on the gravestones seemed to appear almost random. Some had snow towering over, some were wrapped in it, some had shed much with only a thin veneer, though soon to be replaced.

The avenue of trees leading towards the church was transformed into a magical, inviting procession, the rows of gravestones beyond forming marching lines.
Snakes of snow wrapped around crosses, accentuated points of needles and contrasted with the sinewy trees. The world became a lithograph, monochrome. And then blurred with snow as another blizzard came.

It was a joyful experience to see, and be part of, people connecting with one another in the streets, strangers sharing stories and families bonding. With schools being shut there were a few children out playing, though not as many as I expected, making snowmen and chucking snowballs in glee. Adults seemed to be migrating to the local park with sledges and the odd snowboard, or later to the pub, hoping one of the four in the village would be open! Older people were not, as you'd expect, much in evidence; I had checked on my neighbour if he had needed anything, knowing there are many who are vulnerable at this time of year. Sometimes just a "Hello" is enough, but clearing a path or fetching groceries gives them a feeling of being thought of and cared for, and may be the only contact they have for days... And while I am wandering freely around, clad in my outdoor gear, I know that just 5 miles away, men and women have been stuck in their cars for more than 24 hours, assisted by the local Mountain Rescue Teams, although this is actually just off the M1!

So while snow invokes different feelings for different members of our society, I am hoping to make the most of it, appreciating the different forms to see in this world, different skills needed. I want to make snow angels, snow men and women, snow caves and igloos and to kick steps and slide down hills. To listen to nothing and to hear shrieking laughter and the thud of a snowball. To paint skies that are darker than the land, to seek sanctuary in snow covered churchyards with their dead and to appreciate the world around me.