White Christmas

Speak of the Devil and he'll surely appear. No sooner had I expressed my happiness at the absence of snow in these parts than it begins to snow. I should have expected it, I suppose. Well, it's here now, in all its half-centimetre deepness. It is the horrible wet variety (yes, I know, all snow is wet - but some is more wet than others) that sticks to you, and which turns to slush as soon as it comes into contact with any hard surface. It is the best kind for cars to spray and dogs to urinate in. Still. Can't really complain too much, as I really have no intention of going anywhere until Sunday. There is some on the grass, bushes and trees in the back garden (although the patio is all slush), so I might take Liam out tomorrow afternoon and pelt him with slush balls. I can always look out of my front room window and enjoy the tremendous view I have of the snow covered Sidlaw Hills. Mizzie (my cat) was out and about for a while during the heavy snowfall, but, being a feline with a cat's natural aversion to water, she contented herself with sheltering under a garden table and watching the strange event unfold. I decided to dedicate the next five weeks of my photography to black and white images only. Now that's what snow does to you.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

Don't Eskimos have 57 different words for snow in the Inuit vocabulary?

6:23 pm  
Blogger Lusobrandane said...

Interesting. I know they have several words, but I have no idea how many.

3:15 pm  

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