There’s a storm system sweeping across the States and it hit Bristol this morning bringing the first serious snow of the year. Snow ploughs were out clearing the roads, schools were closed and there were more woolly hats in the Blackbird Bakery than you can shake a ski pole at.
I layered on my clothing, put on my tramping boots while feeling vindicated for bringing them all this way, and walked down to The Blackbird, as I do most mornings. The cold air burned my lungs and my footprints were the only ones on the pavement. A woman in her garden standing under a golf umbrella with a dog in a pink coat waved to me.
Inside the Blackbird it was quieter than usual and the talk was of how much snow there’s been and how much is still to come. “They say it’s gonna get worse. You might have to stay overnight with us,” said my new friend who works behind the counter every day on the shift from 6 am to 2pm. I can think of worse places to be snowed in. The bakery has a huge fire and comfy leather chairs and no one would go hungry.
However, it didn’t come to that. The snow got worse during the morning and by the time I headed out it was thick and powdery and fun to kick. I took the long way home and people in cars tooted their horns at the odd figure (I was so bundled up that it was impossible for them to tell if I was male or female), actually the only figure, walking in the snow.
Snow makes the ordinary look extraordinary. The world becomes quiet and magical and breathtakingly pretty. Today I’m snow-struck. Tomorrow, when it melts and becomes slushy, I’ll be over it.
Categories: An American Adventure