Day 10: Snow Feathers

One of the most beautiful things about snow is how it changes.  One day it's little pellets striking at your face; another day you can see big flakes, beautiful in their individuality, landing on your gloves.  Some days it comes thick and fast; other days it floats lazily down and you hum 'Silent Night' as you watch it.

Today I stepped out for my walk.  I expected a long one as the sun is out and I had the afternoon before me: but I didn't get a few feet out my door before I was stopping to pull out the camera.  The snow is like individual sparkling feathers, and when the sun catches it, there are diamonds everywhere.  You want to reach out and touch them.  At one place I stopped to walk through this feathered snow where no one else had passed, and it had a sound like fine sand - whishhh, whishhh, instead of the usual schoonk, schoonk (or, sometimes, a soft crunch, crunch).  I wish I could take a picture of a sound, but just close your eyes and imagine fine white sand pouring from one vessel into another, and you'll hear the sound of walking through snow feathers.

It was about -9 during the day while the sun was shining.  Strange to feel very warm, with my scarf tied close around my neck, and also very cold at the same time.  My face felt frozen into position so that I struggled to smile at those I passed.  One of those I passed was a guy walking into Morrisons, saying to his mate, "Okay, so I need bread, milk, sausages, and Irn Bru."  Basic Scottish needs.  I stopped to take a photo of the train tracks, and an older lady and her husband stopped to speak with me, and we discovered we are neighbours.  She had seen me clearing the road in our estate on Saturday.  Imagine leaving my flat for a long walk and running into two people who live almost next door to me!  

I walked a long way today - probably three hours at least.  Everywhere I went there was beauty.  You could even see the distant mountains, what the Bible calls the "everlasting hills", from certain heights.  I even walked through a cemetery - normally quiet and peaceful places, they are even more so when covered with snow.  A lonely bird perched on a celtic cross surveyed its position, and me, before flying haughtily away. I had disturbed it, and it was not best pleased. Walked past a flowing stream, with the water steaming up where it met the cold air.  A lone tree in a wood.  Quiet, quiet everywhere. 

After a few hours I walked past a friend's house, and they spied me from the window and invited me in for a cup of tea.  I delayed them an hour whilst I caught the end of the setting sun, and then nipped in on my way home.  By this time the sun was setting, and I was so cold I could hardly speak.  It took me a few minutes to get my wellies off (having learned my lesson yesterday, I had three pairs of socks on, so thick it's difficult to get the wellies off! - but my feet were not blocks of ice today!), and they graciously gave me not only a cup of black coffee (is there anything nicer), but a bowl of soup and sandwiches to go with it!  It was difficult to hoist myself together and venture out into the negative temperatures to walk home, but it was lovely to know that my warm cosy flat was waiting patiently for me, as always.

Walk Length: Approx 3.5 hours