Issue #17 The Miscellaneous Adventures Digest

A snowy Miscellaneous Adventure

It sometimes seems a cruel fate that just as green shoots are sprouting, sap is flowing and occasional notes of spring waft through the air that winter decides it has not got everything out of its system yet. I suppose being early March, winter is still well within its rights to send icy blasts from the north, but that doesn’t mean we weren’t already starting to think of camping trips, longer days and that glorious first feeling of warmth on our pale, creaking bodies. Like budding leaves poised on slender branches, we wait impatiently to unfurl in the sun.

That being said, I don’t think it would matter what month it was, I am always excited by the prospect of snow.

For me few things surpass the beauty of a snow covered landscape. Watching flakes of snow slowly fall through the air, spiralling downwards on a gentle breeze or dancing wildly in a blizzard is pure joy, nature’s mysterious magical forces temporarily made manifest. I’m probably pretty insufferable when snow is forecast; my eyes are trained to the skies, waiting for the first flakes to fall, flitting from one window in the house to the next just in case it happens to be snowing out the back but not the front. With that comes the inevitable disappointment when precipitation bearing clouds deliver not beautiful swirling flakes, but a sleety mess of wet icy rain. Or when feathery flakes do gracefully fall but melt immediately upon impact with the slightly too warm ground. Winter is an emotional rollercoaster.

Last week’s forecast was full of promise, yet full of uncertainty as warm and cold air were due to collide with precipitation predicted on the boundary between the two air masses. Thursday was the day we were excited about; it was icy cold and snow was expected to fall all day. And fall it did, but the tiny flakes, swirled and blustered by strong winds failed to settle, melting into melancholy puddles. The storm raged all day and into the night. We watched as the flakes grew fatter and tumbled sideways past the windows but despite the blizzard the landscape remained dull green and grey.

At some point during the night however, the temperature dipped just low enough, or a spell was cast to allow the snow to cover the outside world in a cloak of white. Cover might be a slight overstatement, but there was certainly enough to make a small snowman before school. Higher slopes held the promise of deeper snow and so we declared the day a snow day, dropped Benji off and headed for the hills.

It’s rare that we do much adventuring without Benji; on weekdays when he is at school one or other of us is usually working somewhere or on days when when we’re both at home we work on Misc. Adventures stuff together or tackle a backlog of life admin tasks. We love having him with us in the hills, but I think it’s ok to admit we sometimes miss the total silence and freedom from responsibility that hiking used to offer us. This day would be a rare and cherished opportunity for us to relish in nature’s wintery goodness, just the two of us together.

The spot we hiked to is one we visit frequently; a sure crowd pleaser with visiting friends and family and one that delivers generously in return for only moderate effort. On this day however, the snow had transformed the familiar into the fantastical and we saw the landscape anew. Well trodden paths were covered with drifts of snow, knee deep in some places, hiding icy boulders beneath and forcing us away from our usual route. Tracks left behind in the soft snow let us know who had been there before us that morning. A fox gently tip toeing across the path, the faint imprints of wingtips as birds landed and took off again. Ours were the only human tracks; there’s something magical about knowing we were the only ones to have been there and to have seen the things we saw. Patterns and shapes showed us where the wind had been too, carving sharp edged sculptures as it contoured across the land. Leaving behind waves and ridges as it swirled around boulders and perfect arcs drawn by dry bracken stems swaying back and forward.

It's amazing how much interest snow can add to somewhere so ordinarily familiar. We sat at the top drinking hot coffee listening to the rare, pure silence for a while before slipping, sinking and sliding our way back down the already melting snow, with the bright warm sunshine on our faces and the icy wind on our backs; spring ahead of us and winter behind.

Well, we hope you managed to enjoy the snow last week, please do let us know what it was like where you were!

Until next week, warmest wishes from the three of us,

Andrew, Emma and Benji

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