A Fine Winter

There's nothing quite like a good winter. By 'good', naturally, I mean long, snow-bound, and very cold. Three years in Warsaw soon brings you round to the idea of a real winter. Unlike the Poles however, the Scots always moan about it, as if they could never see it coming. It is I suppose, living on the west coast as we Glaswegians do, our prerogative to moan and whine. It's the wind you see (something that was conspicuous by its absence in Warsaw) that communicates through us! The Glaswegian winter of 2009-10 was particularly fine and gave way to crystalline skies with a sunlight that shot right through to the core.

Cold?
No.

Sublime?
Yes.

A damn fine winter!



All things beside seem to be called in for shelter, and what stays out must surely be part of the original frame of the universe. Henry David Thoreau, A Winter Walk