It only felt like yesterday when a huge group of us were shading ourselves at Sutton park in a last ditch attempt to heal our sun burnt shoulders. The summer flew by as did Autumn, Winter is well and truly here, and he doesn't seem to be easing us in gradually either. It wasn't until 5pm that I realised how thick the snow had fallen. With all this coursework, I just must have become oblivious. I hate letting things pass me by. I love winter. Not just because it is acceptable to wear boots and hats at school or not because we get to gorge ourselves with mince pies and mulled wine (although that is a factor) it is because it brings us all together,well it used to.
Despite the reoccurring depressing prospect you face every morning; hurling yourself out of your warm cocoon of a bed and onto the dark cold ice rink that is your wooden floor, there is nothing more beautiful then reaching up and peering out of your blinds or curtains to be greeted with a blanket of snow. It's ironic I chose the word blanket, as you often associate that word with warmth and comfort and snow in reality couldn't be further from those descriptions. When we were little my sister and I would refuse to allow our brother to play in the snow whilst it was snowing in fear that it would stop. We would literally barricade the doors, scream, do anything in order to keep him away from the crisp layer of heaven that awaited us outside. Looking back, it was a little irrational to say the least.
Last years snow seemed so much more innocent, I suppose we all seemed so much more innocent. It's depressing that we have come to an age where Christmas has become just another day of the year. I distinctly remember being about 5 years old and unwrapping a huge toy castle, and reading the tag " To Jo, Merry Xmas Love Father Xmas", By this age I had already learnt to distinguish between my parents hand writing and this was most definitely my fathers. One year I was sleeping on my sisters floor ( we always share a room at Xmas) and my dads cover was well and truly blown when he stood on my stomach whilst trying to fill our stockings.
My twin sister and I used to apply so many layers of clothing that we could barely walk let alone frolic in the snow, warmth was essential.We would then run to the top of our road where our best friend lived and coax him out of bed (usually by throwing snowballs off his window) to join us. We would spend hours, making snowmen and giant snowballs that eventually transformed into solid ice boulders that would break your back if you attempted to move them. Then one day, our best friend moved.
Anyway once the excruciating awakening is out of the way, it's time to play. Well it usually is, except this year I haven't actually found time to clamber into my 'snow gear' and get to grips the the sloppy stuff. Plus the fact that I have no-one to actually enjoy it with. It's odd how something is completely different when experienced alone. If you were alone and saw the most breath taking view, or sight, how could you ever rehearse and remember it if there is no-one to share the memory with. So yes, boo hoo me. My sister is working late at college and the only person , well in this case, thing that is willing to share the shriek evoking stuff with me is my dog ; Millie. She adores the snow, it certainly makes dog walking alot easier not only because she makes a pretty mean husky dog (despite being a collie cross) and my wellies make pretty nifty ski's but mainly because it means I don't have to carry around a soggy, stinky tennis ball to throw about for her. There are mounds of potential balls to be made, the best thing is I can reuse and recycle and if I haven't made the point that I'm an Eco-freak clear enough I will reinstate it.
I AM AN ECO FREAK.
Anyway, the dog is growling and the snow is melting. On winter nights I normally avoid walking all the way to the park but since the snow reflects the lights, it's as if I am walking in daylight and I need a long walk. A warm mince pie and ice cream is enough of an incentive to get me back home in under half an hour.