So, the weather

Consider the word ‘seasonal‘ – what meaning does it have in our Anthropocene-era, world-out-of-balance corner of the Eurasian landmass? Two months ago we had ourselves some seasonally appropriate snowfall – and availed ourselves of it:

Sledding on January 20th – that's cool

Sledding on January 20th – that’s cool

And last week, after long weather delays, we had the seasonally appropriate snow-along-the-bough effect of ornamental plum blossom:

Loveliest of trees, barring the cherry

Loveliest of trees, barring the cherry

But now we’re enjoying the longest sustained cold snap of the winter, except the first day of spring arrived last Wednesday. So it’s déjà-vu all over again:

Où sont les neiges d'antan? Right here

Où sont les neiges d’antan? Right here

We’re not alone, however, as friends in the US assure us:

This is how we do it Stateside

This is how we do it Stateside

And more than once, on the trudge across Old Milverton hillside, we found ourselves murmuring: ‘Just like in the old country.’ Viz., sledding now –

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And then –

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We even came across a wolf, which appeared to have wandered out of the Canadian taiga –

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And it was clear she was reveling in her element.

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As were other creatures of the snowy wastes.

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The traveller owns the grateful sense
Of sweetness near, he knows not whence,
And, pausing, takes with forehead bare
The benediction of the air.

(Whittier, Snow-Bound)

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