Well no, not really, I just like that word, only a couple of inches fell. Although, with the way a few inches of snow affects the transport system in this country, you would think it was. At least it snowed over Saturday night, so fingers crossed the Monday Morning Rush Hour won't be too hellacious. Here's hoping, as British Rail has a good 24 hours to sort themselves out.
The view from my kitchen window this morning.
Say what you like, I don't find anything remotely "pretty" about snow. It's white, it's wet and cold, and will very soon turn to slush, or even worse when the temperatures plummet tonight, ice. And I will have to make my way out in it in the morning.
Possibly the only thing going for it is that it is hiding the copious amounts of weeds out there. So much for getting stuff done in the garden to deal with the God-awful mess it has once again become. It was temperate all through January, and up until now. I kept saying to myself, every weekend, "must get out there."
You know, until the last 5 years, I could probably count on one hand the number of times it has snowed in London since I lived here, at that point about 17 years.
Damn you, global warming.