I had to write this post whilst the snow was still falling.
Venturing out on a miserable afternoon with Ollie, I took the umbrella. It had been raining since lunchtime, and looked pretty dismal. The Meadows and Hoe Rough were muddy once again, a result of the recent rain on the ground that had hardly dried from constant downpours. It was hard going; skidding about, lurching into deeper mud, feet sucked into unseen pools a foot deep.
After one circuit of the Rough, Ollie was still going strong. I had to put the umbrella up again as the rain got heavier, and decided that thirty minutes more would have to do. On the main path, in the open, we were suddenly battered by an unexpected hail shower. Tiny pellets of ice, hammering down in the north wind. The temperature had fallen considerably, and my cheeks were icy to touch, hands cold even in gloves. Ollie uncurled his tail, a sure sign that he was no longer enjoying his romp.
I turned for home, and was relieved that the hail stopped as I did so. I thought that I might be able to dispense with my umbrella, but as I considered this, it began to snow. Not gentle flakes, fluttering down from above. No, real snow, blizzard snow, huge chunks of the stuff coming in sideways, whirling around in the strong wind. Even with the umbrella, I was soon covered, and wet through. Ollie’s back was white with snowflakes, and I could hardly see the path to get to the exit. It didn’t let up as I fought my way back across the bridge, speeding up for the short journey back to the house. It had settled on the cars, on the tops of hedges, and in front gardens too. And it’s still coming down.
I thought of two expressions about the weather that are often used here. “It’s too cold for snow.” How stupid is that? Ask the Russians or Norwegians, Canadians, or Inuit. It snows when it’s cold. That’s an end to it. The other old saying is, “March comes in like a lion, and goes out like a lamb.” Well, the first part is true today, let’s hope the last part is accurate too.