Snow Day - the joy of a dusting.
I think about many things when I’m walking with Monty. Generally I try and keep myself free from earphones and just let my brain chew over stuff and this makes for lots of thoughts, ideas and clarity.
Today I pulled the van into Ditchling Beacon car park, scowled at someone for not being patient and almost reversing into me while I was lacing my boots up and then checked myself for being a mardy Monday cow. And then we headed off into the snowy landscape.
I pulled my hat further down over my ears and, despite the bitter cold, snow conjures up such joy - even though we know with it it can bring slippy pavements, broken boilers, icy roads - but as I revelled in the joyous squeals of small people on sleds I pondered that snow essentially equals pause.
As a child, school would be cancelled and all of a sudden we’d have a day off, adults included. So we’d all head off for sheer, unbarred play - everyone letting their shoulders drop a little and being in the moment on this day of unexpected freedom. Unlike Easter or Halloween where the planned fun comes with a pressure, snow provided some completely off the cuff spontaneity or impromptu play.
So perhaps, while snow is undoubtedly beautiful, this is a reason why snow conjures up such joy and good feeling. Where we can often find it such a struggle to switch off or surrender to play the feeling of pause or freedom attached to snow is a delight. And in the world of Instagram and Canva and other (very useful - it must be said) tools there is a pressure to make money from our creativity. But the simplicity of play you get in the snow is joyous and as I threw some snowballs for Monty a family appeared and commented on what a happy dog he was. Perhaps play is the answer?
As joyous as snow is on a weekend, being out in on a weekday is so reminiscent of these times of joy. With all the stress and pressure of self employment stolen moments like this where you can just be and walk among the white landscapes are relished.