It never fails to amaze me how London grinds to a halt whenever there’s the tiniest, weeniest little sprinkling of snow. I know that technically we’re not used to snow the way they are, say, in Canada, but come on… this excuse works the first fifty times, and then it gets kind of boring. And such histrionics in the media! Really, you’d think there was nothing else happening in the world…
I actually like this weather. I think there’s something so beautiful about bright snow flakes against the night sky, and I love the way the pavement and road get blanketed, so you can’t see the boundaries. It is a pain that transport gets messed up, and it’s no fun de-icing a car. But this weather definitely brings people together, and slows things down in a way that I think is good (every now and then) for a city like London.
I still remember the excitement of snow days when I was a child. Snowball fights! Unexpected days off school! (I loved school, but it was still exciting…) That excitement filters through to my adult self (especially when I get to leave work early.)
Of course, if this weather messes up my parents’ house move next week, I will be cursing the skies.
