Snow is a bastard
Woke up this morning to reports of Britain grinding to a halt because of snow. I’ve always said that London is absolutely pathetic in it’s response to even the smallest of snowfalls, but I guess when it only happens once every 2-3 years, there’s no point in using tax funds to devise and implement a ‘just-in-case’ response strategy.
That being said, I love snow. In fact, it’s probably because of the rarity of snow – and the inevitability of snow days given that whole grind-to-a-halt thing – that makes it so appealing. Imagine my disappointment, then, when I woke up to see green grass, grey skies and rain this morning. And wind. Oh, the wind we’ve seen these past few days…
Someone upstairs (and I don’t mean the lab) obviously hates me, because just as I had accepted that I wasn’t going to get to see a white-coloured town, I got to the front door it was not only snowing, it was snowing sideways. That lovely south-southeast gale that I woke up to was now battering ice flakes right horizontally outside, just in time for me to go to work. Fantastic, thought I, as I put my hood up and stepped out into this burgeoning blizzard. The best was yet to come, though: the gale decided it would be quite a giggle to shift to due west – in other words directly on my back. Even this wouldn’t be so bad as due east, but given the strength of the gusts, I was not in a ‘could-be-worse’ kind of mood. At one point as I had to literally lean back a few degrees so as not to be blown over, I actually turned around to see if someone was pushing me for a laugh.
I did see one of the more amazing sights of my life, though. The short cliff face that runs from beach to Cathedral was channelling the wind in such a way that the snow was – without exaggeration – falling up before flying laterally down Kirkhill. I knew this wouldn’t make for cheery walking given that I was still leaning back to keep from getting knocked down, so I ran – yes, ran: I wasn’t strong enough to walk into the wind at this point – into the Cathedral grounds and the wind-breaking their walls provided.
Once I was out of the sea wind, walking was a whole lot easier. My trouser cuffs were soaked, I was cold, and I was definitely redefining ‘wind-swept’. But, I was no longer cursing the weather; I was resuming hope for it to stick around and blanket the town after all. Got my morning coffee, left the shop, and wouldn’t you know it?
The bastard snow stopped falling. Blue skies; just in time for me to go inside.
Tags: scotland, snow, snow day, St Andrews, weird weather, wind
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February 2, 2009 at 2:45 pm
The snow is packed so tight here that the bottom step to the backyard no longer exists, and you can just walk right over it. Lame that your snow didn’t stick around (or cut you some slack) but I have to say I would have been absolutely gutted if it properly snowed there and I missed it.