And so this was the week that winter finally arrived. After watching aghast at daffodils unfolding their yellow petals on January 6th and cherry blossom make a ridiculous and worrying appearance in November, we were all so nearly fooled. Fooled into thinking we might just have, for once in living memory, cheated winter and skipped through to spring without any whisper of frost.
But look at the treats that we awoke to on Tuesday morning…..
I had popped over to my mum’s house to get a fresh stock of clean clothes for her in hospital (where she is being treated superbly in what I can only describe as a small pocket of funded glory in the NHS) and to chat with my brother about things. The air was -3 yet the sun had just come out. At risk of frost biting my hands off, I saw a brief window of glorious opportunity to grab some photos before the sun melted the frost. And snapped the above, and the below with my iPhone 4S.
I then saw these beauties in our garden the next day:
If I’d had the time and a proper camera with me, I’d have happily wandered off and grabbed panoramic shots of the breathtaking white vistas of frost that turned our semi-urban landscape into something akin to a fairytale. I’d missed the chance on Sunday when we had our first and only snowfall. I was booked to go on my first Guardian Masterclass on The Craft of Writing (and yes, it was as excellent). As I drove into the train station at an uncharacteristically early hour for a Sunday, my mouth dropped at the stunning beauty of every twig and every branch on every tree being beautified by this other worldly substance. I had no SLR camera that I prefer for landscapes nor time to stop. You’ll just have to imagine it 😉
Frost really is is the great beautician.