It’s a good job that I got back from London when I did as the next day it snowed, and heavily. Snow can be so disruptive, and the left-behind ice on the pavements so difficult, not to mention dangerous, to walk on, but I do love a snow day! It was fortunate that I didn’t have to go anywhere.
Snow evokes happy memories for me growing up in Suffolk where we seemed to get bitterly cold winters – blame it on those Siberian winds from the East – with not just snow but blizzards. Once we had so much snow that the weight of it caused our back door to fly open. I can remember when I was about 10 and the bus not turning up one afternoon after school and my brother and I having to walk home the 2 miles across fields knee-deep in snow. Mum didn’t seem too unduly concerned when we showed up wet, freezing cold and about 2 hours later than usual. Those were the days…
I remember my oldest son when he was little, in his little red boots and snow suit, sitting in a sledge being pulled by our dog Bonnie in the snow just outside our house but when he was 3 years old we moved to California. Growing up there, together with his brother and sister who were born there, snow didn’t fall where we lived. They were always slightly miffed that they didn’t get to miss school due to ‘snow days’ like the lucky kids who lived on the East Coast. We did of course ‘go to the snow’ up in the mountains taking snowboards and sleds but that was different.
So, when we moved back to the UK you can just imagine their delight that first winter when we looked out our windows and saw actual falling snow right on our doorstep! Our 2 cats had never seen snow in all their years (we brought them back with us from California) and it was a delight to watch them as we let them out in the garden to play in the peculiar white stuff, batting at the strange ‘spiders’ falling from the sky. I will never forget the children’s faces when I was at long last able to say to them the next morning, ‘No school, you’ve got your snow day!’ Delight all around.
Which brings me back to this ‘snow day’ and who should I see hopping about in the garden again but our robin! From now on I will call him (or her?) Sweet Robin. Throwing on boots and a coat I crept about in the falling snow for a little while trying to get a few good shots of him and he was very cooperative I have to say. A few on the ground, then some on snow-filled pots and then the grand finale up by the bird feeder. He cocked his head a few times and I swear he even winked at me once or twice. Perhaps I should have called this blog ‘Me and my Robin’ as it seems I am totally obsessed with him.