This took a lot longer than normal, for some reason...
Overnight, something huge has taken a sieveful of icing sugar and dusted the high places. Each crevice, each crag, every tree, cliff and corrie now shining with that oh-so-special light which is reflected from the first major snow of the season. It is clean and clear, speaks of promise and things chilled, waiting for spring and the flowering once more. The following day, the icing sugar dusting is replaced with thick slabs of frosting. The mountain gateaux have received their winter toppings.
Snow is something I have always loved — and still do. Perhaps it is because I do not drive (initially due to having an ex-MOD Landrover as the family car, in which it would have been illegal to practice, then I lived in cities and well-served by public transport); perhaps that sense of having to head to work for a commute, negotiating ice and snow, is something which causes the dislike in adults? I have never met a child who detests snow.