It is a truth universally acknowledged (in the UK at least) that a single day in position of a snow fall must be in want of a photographer.
I have very mixed feelings about snow - I still have the child-like delight and desire to caper in the snow, but this motivation is combined with awful balance (I fall over most days putting on my socks. This is true.) No 90 year old could creep along the pavements as slowly as I - pensioners were comfortably outstripping me. But, still, pretty photographs...
In the hope of dragging this back to literature - portrayals of snow in books? The Tenderness of Wolves by Stef Penney is brilliant at this. Someone here or elsewhere, possibly my friend Barbara-from-Ludlow, suggested a Jack London story for being similarly good at putting across the feeling of snow. Any other suggestions?
We built a snowman called Bernard. In the dark. Mel named him Bernard, but I like to think of him as named after the character in The Waves.
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