The First Snow Of Winter

The last of the unseasonal weather has passed. The freak autumn heatwave which made the spring bulbs rise four months early has finished. This morning was the first snowfall of winter. The bulbs withered and looked shocked at the ferocity of the drop in temperature. They had been lulled into a false sense of security.

Even the stone sculpture looked shocked. The water had ceased to spurt out of the fish's mouth.

The roads were surprisingly treacherous. Slippery and skiddy. The higher up the hill, the more slippery it became. The gritter had not been along the road, so it was perfect for practising a few manoeuvres and getting acquainted with driving in the snow again. I've missed it, I thought as the rear wheels tried to overtake the front ones.

The industrial landscape took on an eerie beauty. The dour grey slag heaps were unseen. The first snow of winter hides a multitude of sins. This is just the beginning - early December. Winter could last until May. Come to think of it, in these parts, it has been known to snow in every month of the year.

Ho Ho.