Blanketed

I don't much like British winters, but I do like the snow.

I like snow because it makes us stop and look at everything. Because it's clean. Because it's simple. Because it muffles out the suburban drone, reinstates the silence of the countryside. Because I remember childhood snow days, snowmen and snowball fights. Because of snowy Dickensian footprints along pavements and pathways, icing sugared rooftops and how everything is given a rounded edge. Because of dogs and horses with furry snow beards. Because it creates the perfect excuse to hunker down with hot chocolate and watch the snow fall slowly past the window.

I took these photos on Friday afternoon when the snow came flurried and fast, and work closed halfway through the day. It meant a walk home in a blizzard with my hardy DSLR and frozen feet. Everywhere was deserted and I was alone with that eerie silence as the snow built up thickly and steadily around me. I felt like I was in a fairy tale. It was magical.