Snow

 Monbéliard castle

 Motorway near my work

 Tree outside work

From the train going to Montbéliard

 

The snow is back, blowing gently down from a dark sky. It looks so beautiful, hypnotic, until you stand out in it for awhile. The you realise that snow is cold. This may sound stupid, but it's a bit like being a moth, drawn to the beautiful flame of a candle, only to have to wings burnt by its terrible fire- only in this case it's cold, and it's not really that terrible. But it's cold enough that you can feel it.  

 

Snow is mysterious because when you look at it from inside a building it's magical, but when you slip in it, stumbling down to the bus stop and then spend ages waiting surrounded by it's freezing beauty, the freezing beauty soon fades to just freezing. Like today, when I waited half an hour in the cold for the bus that wouldn't come, and there were five of us waiting, getting angrier and angrier, but laughing because it's the polite thing to do... screaming in rage in public is discouraged, even in France. By the time I got on the bus I was dreaming of a warm hot chocolate. Winter has it's pleasant side, in fact snow is like being in a cold swimming pool... it feels so good to stop being out in it, but it's very pleasant to know you can look out at it from the inside and enjoy its beauty that way.