Monday, 14 January 2013

Into each life a little snow must fall

And so we can celebrate - just about - the first Snow Ceremony of the year.

For the Beaker People, snow is like life. The promise of new snow is exciting. We peek out in the dawn light, anxious to know whether it is a deep carpet or just a dusting.

We rush out, child-like in our joy, to dance in the new-found beauty of the suddenly-discovered, mysteriously-changed landscape.

But our hands freeze as the ice melts through our inadequate gloves. The Ford Focus of our hopes sklds on its way to the Tesco of Destiny, as it loses purchase on the frozen drive of despair.

And then the pure,white, pure-white snow turns to mush and slush, fit only for adding tooth-rotting syrup and selling to children as a novely drink. The magic is gone, as white, crisp snow turns to brown, wet gunge. Our hopes are at an end.

"Oh who can save us from th'inevitable Thaw of Life?" we ask ourselves.

But perhaps we are looking too far ahead. Gather ye snowballs while ye may, should be our motto. Seize the Day! Let joy be unconfined and snowpeople spring up all over the Beaker lawns! Snatch at the magic, for the Thaw cometh.

1 comment :

  1. It's clear you aren't talking about 50+cm of snow accompanied by 110+ kph winds and 12 hou (if you were lucky) power outages. (We don't usually get the power outages.) This sort of thing severely affects any child-like joy at the sight of snow, even when you know you don't have to go to work.

    Fortunatly, the typical rise in temperatures after a storm has taken care of most of the snow.


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