It had threatened to snow the evening before, I am not sure how I could tell; sometimes you can just smell it in the air that a change is coming. But I had gone to bed quite late and just before I had snuggled under the warm, comfy duvet I had taken a last peek outside and not one flake was to be seen. I had even looked at the street lamps, the watery orange glow that they emit often shows the first flurries of rain or snow but nothing, and so I had gone to bed relieved in a way as I had work tomorrow and walking in that stuff was never a good experience.
The alarm had gone off, I had crawled out from the bed and gone through the motions of getting ready. Showered and dressed I made sure that I had everything with me and opened the door, walked down the flight of stairs and opened to door onto the rest of the world.
What was this? a white blanket across the ground and a chill that would make a Eskimo shudder blasted through the door. I groaned The snow had obviously came fast and furious in the wee hours of the morning, covering everything that there was to be covered. I went back upstairs and got my heavier winter coat and made my way very slowly and very surely along the riverside towards where I worked.
Tower Bridge stood cold and harsh in the background, a mighty monolith against the grey sullen sky. “I hope they gritted the main road” I said to myself as I slipped on an icy patch and went crashing onto my arse.
Do you get anything from this picture? Is it just a bit meh for you or do you find something rich and interesting in it? Please share your thoughts either way.