So, after a week of headlines like “Snow Chaos to cripple Britain” SNOWMAGEDDON has finally arrived. The weather has dominated the front pages of our Newspapers for days and continues to make a huge drama out of the prospect of snow. There is no doubt these artic conditions will disrupt the rhythms of every day life, but we’ll survive, we’ll get over it, life will go on.
The last two mornings I’ve woken up to my surroundings swallowed up in a white world, snow hugging each building like a huge silvery blanket. The branches of trees hanging low with the weight of the flakes that cling to them. No sooner have vehicles imprinted their tracks on the road, they are erased as a fresh blanket falls like confetti from the sky.
I certainly wasn’t looking forward to venturing out in those plummeting temperatures, but with two German Shepherds needing to relieve themselves the choice wasn’t mine. As I downed my first coffee of the day, I binge watched the weather channel and stories of people stock piling a weeks’ worth of milk, bread and wine, yes wine (how times have changed). The screen revealed images of jack-knifed trucks blocking motor ways with two-mile tail backs as people tried to get to and from work (unless they were on their way to get that week’s supply of wine). Pictures of frozen fountains, icicles hanging like huge crystal daggers sent in by devoted watchers, as educated people opened a debate on whether snow ball games should be banned “Really?” Maybe kids should be encouraged to play in the snow, at least it will tear them away for their iPad or iPhone for a while. Then of course there is the small problem of the name “snowman” seemingly its sexist and should be called “snow people”??? The UK has gone mad with its PC agenda and its ever-growing trend of compensation claims, which is, I’m guessing why this Head Teacher has decided to ban his pupils from even touching the snow. Also, since when did we start giving the wind a name? Seemingly Storm Emma is in her way to cripple us Brits some more, as if things aren’t dire enough.
Meanwhile my two German Shepherds had patiently crossed their legs whilst waiting for me to pluck up the courage to venture outside. Three layers of clothing, a scarf and some gloves (that had been warming on the radiator) I thought it was best to get this part of the day over. I struggled to open the door because of the snow that had drifted up against it, and that is before Storm Emma has graced us with her presence. Two excited tails battered my legs as I heaved at the door, as both dogs pushed around me impatiently, squeezing themselves out before it was fully open, and running out crazy with excitement at their new surroundings. I realised as I watched them bounding through the fresh white blanket, snow is a very big deal to dogs, but in a good way. There was no holding them back, as they took pleasure in this huge playroom of softness and new smells. Yellow stains marked their track as I followed, the snow crunching underneath my feet. “Who let the dogs out” sang out in my head as I took pleasure in watching the simplicity of my dog’s ability to embrace the moment. It took me to that saying, “I don’t need a therapist, I have a dog” and watching your dog, or dogs enjoying themselves is a good way to make you chill, and really put things into perspective. So, no more weather news for me, like my treasured pooches, I’m looking forward to our next venture out. Not only have they taught me to lighten up because snow can be fun, but also that there is something amazingly wonderful, about being that first to make an impression on a fresh blanket of snow.