For a child, a snowy winter’s day 

brings great delight and the promise of play. To open the curtains to a blanket of white 

is always a thrilling and beautiful sight. 

The crunch that is made by wellington boots, as snug as a bug in a scarf and snow suit; 

slipping and sliding on the walk up to school, and then after, the snowball fights, all in, no rules. When mittens are sodden and fingers are frozen, back home for hot chocolate to thaw out cold noses. 

Once grown, there remains the joy and the thrill, but also concerns about ice and the chill: 

There are paths that need gritting and black ice on roads and journeys to work in the ice and the snow. Elderly people to keep safe and warm 

and children to watch as they play and have fun. Store cupboards to fill just in case you’re snowed in and fuel to buy to fill up the coal bin. 

With wood to collect and bird feeders to fill, we sometimes forget just to stop and be still. 

The feeling’s still there on that cold icy morning, when the world is a Christmas card, frost is adorning. The hillsides are glistening with a dusting of white and the trees are all frozen, bark sparkling bright. As I walk down the lane there’s a satisfying crunch and the robins are searching for grubs for their lunch. See the glint of the sun in the late afternoon as it casts its long shadows, making way for the moon. Freezing fog hangs in valleys as day turns to night, for the beauty of winter is a breathtaking sight.