It snowed yesterday!
Snow can be a pain if you're a normal, cynical Brit who expects the trains to stop working and the world to come to a grinding halt.
I, however, still find falling snow absolutely magical.
All fluffy, like there's a giant fan in the sky, blowing it all around. Snow is also magical because everything becomes completely silent. The sky becomes very misty and low, and for some reason, shit seems to stop making a noise.
When the snow really starts to come down, and doesn't melt on impacting the road, you know that London is going to go quiet. Because, yes, stuff stops working.
The nutters stop talking, the trains stop rolling.
The UK transport system, is, actually by all accounts a fucking brilliant network for something that was built in the 1800s. It's the world's oldest train system, and given it's been subject to The Blitz, alone, among other things, it works astoundingly well.
People bitch.
But isn't that great? Snow that actually settles on the ground means you get a SNOW DAY. Just like what the schools do. If you can't find a replacement bus, [just don't look too hard] and you might just get to work from home and stare endlessly out the window at the swirling flakes, and quietness around you.
Snow on the ground is wonderful for 24 hours. It's crunchy and soft and everything looks frightfully pretty and foreign. Even if the snow coats a heaving tip filled with fresh nappies, it looks beautiful.
Then the pollution starts to settle in, and the snow turns black and slushy on the streets, nutters piss in it, and then everyone is grumpy again as the place takes on a resoundingly similar appearance to a frozen
If only it would settle on the fucking ground. There'd be some peace and quiet around here. And I could claim SNOW DAY.
Until then, will stare out of the window and marvel that I live in an area of the world where it actually snows sometimes.
(While my mother experiences 35 degrees in Pretoria, I experience highs of negative one and lows of -10.)

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