What a difference a day makes…
…twenty-four little hours. And about 27 bazillion million trillion billion snowflakes and twenty or thirty mile-per-hour winds.
I’m currently finding it hard to believe that, just over 48 hours ago, I was sitting here at home enjoying a beautiful sunset at the end of a day that had included a trip to Acorn Bank, where Glenda and I and our friend Nick had spent a very pleasant few hours wandering around the garden and woodland in rather glorious sunshine. And yet, at around two or three o’clock this afternoon, I opened the door down at the Choc Baroque workshop in Barnard Castle to find that it had started snowing. Not a huge amount, but more than enough. And mostly arriving at a fairly shallow angle thanks to the wind that had been huffing and puffing around the building earlier, knocking small twigs and bits and pieces off the nearby trees.
By the time I left this evening to attend a band rehearsal, the conditions were even worse with heavier snow hurtling through the air and plastering every windward surface with a layer of soft white coldness. The drive down to our drummer’s place was interesting and fun, with snow on the verges and some of it beginning to lie on the road surface itself. Unloading my keyboards and other gear from the car probably looked like something from an Antarctic expedition.
It was a good rehearsal though, with us doing pretty well considering that we hadn’t played together for a few months. And, before I knew it, it was time to call it a night and for me to head home. So it was out into the icy blast of horizontal snow once again, loading everything back up into the car and driving back along the snowy country lanes while trying to work out where I was going – there was so much light from my headlights reflecting back off all the snow in the air that it all got a bit iffy at times. But I made it safe and sound and don’t intend to set foot out of the door again until the morning. At which point I’m pretty much expecting the world outside to look like Narnia and our dear little puss-cat, Trillian, to be standing at the door giving me a highly disgruntled look and asking in no uncertain terms what the merry hoo-hah I think I’m doing allowing weather like this to happen when she wants to go outside and play.
Oh well, at least this week is giving me enough to ramble about. Although I’m sure I could ramble just as well about lovely warm Spring days and more glorious sunshine if I were given the chance.