Walking up the path away from the house, full of cold, wearing a little blue cord pinnafore dress, long sleeved top and bright red wellington boots carrying a large white handkerchief aged 3 or 4 is an early experiences of snow that I remember.
I remember very clearly asking if I could go outside so that I could walk on the crisp newly fallen snow that no one had walked in. As a parent now I’m surprised my mum let me do this without putting a coat on and wrapping me up in a million layers of fluffy woollen accessories but perhaps she felt that I would be out in it for such a short time that my protesting to go out wrapped up was not worth the tantrum!
It’s true I wasn’t out long and I was allowed to stomp in the fresh snow with my wellington boots, examining the ridged footprints I made and listening to the sound the snow made when I stood on it. Looking up and seeing the snow falling and feeling it land on my face allowing some to go in my mouth.
Even as an adult the prospect of snow is still exciting (as long as I’m not caught in a snowstorm when I’m driving). Just as I did as a child I love going out in the fresh snow, feeling the chill and hearing the sound which can only be made standing on fresh snow.
Today I wait, the forecasts have predicted snow for Cumbria. I have my purple wellington boots ready by the door in anticipation.