Tag Archives: snow

Do you remember? Probably not.

snow 2018.6

This corner of Canterbury is called the Bomb Crater. Don’t dispute its right to that name, but …

As traditional as the name is its status as the venue of choice for sledging. The local hills, including the one from which it was gouged, may feel steep to climbing cyclists, but they are neither steep enough nor deep enough for sledging. The ‘Beast from the East’ weather system has given the children a few days off school – a gift such as most of them cannot remember – and many locals were enjoying the bomb crater when Mrs T and I walked by. Joy!

Who could begrudge their happiness by saying they should be in school, in uniform, when they can have a taste of winter?

I can remember snowball fights against the teachers – how many Health and Safety and Child Protection issues would that raise now?


Winter’s not over yet


In and out of the White Cliffs of Dover – no wonder the Victorians used to talk of railway mania, it’s a crazy place to build a line, but they did want to reach the ports. A century and a half later we can enjoy the views across the Channel in warmth and comfort.

One man who would have enjoyed this day was Mr Turner, the artist JWM Turner, who captured the thrill of the Victorian railway in Rain, Steam and Speed, as well as the sea and sky as their changing moods react to each other.

As often after showers, France looked much closer than twenty miles away. In those few minutes that I was in the train, the sun was shining over Ambleteuse, lighting up the surrounding hills, all snow-covered. The storm that had anointed them was rampaging West, a black presence right down to the waves, leading a pack of dark beings intent on disconcerting sailors and landlubbers alike.

Yet the sun shone over the distant snow fields, and here and there lit up a stretch of sea, a white ferry coming in from Calais, the end of Admiralty Pier.

The next storm-wolf was roaring hailstones over Dover as we arrived. No ride to the beach for my picnic lunch today!



Is Spring that far behind?

Making for Saddleworth by the East Coast line offers a ride through the Pennines. Even if the train from Huddersfield was creaky, the windows gave onto to the bleak hilltops, all dusted with snow.

Next morning the bus through Oldham passed families on their way uphill to the town shops, nine year old boys trying to slide on the film of frost over the shaded pavements, their mothers dragging them along regardless. Mr Pickwick would have sympathised with the little lads

A few more days, and the nights will be getting shorter but the days will get colder; be patient, boys of Oldham!