I think he does, because not so long after posting about the good old days of snow, along comes some of the most amazing snowfalls since I was young, and we’re on the coast now on the lowlands.
Well, that’s not strictly true, we’re probably as high as you can get in Edinburgh without living on a hill or the Pentlands. However, it is just like when I was young. Tons of snow and the sun darkened out by constant, thick falls.
It had been snowing off and on for a little bit, and because we are high up we got the snow when the rest of the city wasn’t really. Last night was the big one though, when I looked out the window the orange street lamp glow was everywhere, reflected by the snow falling around it, creating a haze of softly falling orange. It was fantastic. Not only that, but this time it was lying.
All through the day the snow had tried to fall and lie, but everywhere was soaked from the previous sleet and thawed snow. So it was wonderful to look out the window and see white everywhere. Roads and pavements of white without a single mark upon them.
This morning was just as amazing to wake up to. We had left the bedroom blinds open to watch the snow falling by the lamp outside the window, and that’s just what we woke to, except now there was lots more snow.
I had decided the night before that I was going to go out first thing and take some photos. To try and catch a glorious snow dawn, never mind if it was still snowing, I could take pictures then too. So by 7:45 I was atop the hill behind Merchants Golf Course.
The walk up was fantastic. The snow had been driving from one direction and had coated the branches of the trees and the bushes from one side, so looking at the canopy of trees above you was a web of crossing white branches, each showing a dark shadow of bark behind. It had the quality of a drawing. However, I couldn’t stop, I wanted to reach the top and get some snow cityscapes. What greeted me was something even better.
Someone had built a snowman overnight and built him sitting on the bench staring across the city. Fantastic! I fired off a whole spool of film of shots from either side of the hill, with many including that wonderful snowman. Of course these are my first real shots in snow, so I was following all the appropriate rules…but I just hope I get some right. I’ve taken shots in snow before, although that was at 2am in a snow storm, but it turned out wonderfully! Here’s hoping.
So after almost two hours I hiked back down, and saw loads more excellent pictures to be taken. I just hope the snow lasts a bit longer. I need to take that photo of the branches covered in snow. Perhaps Friday I can take a hike up in the morning, and just hope that the snow hasn’t gone.
As I type the room has just darkened and looking out the window provides the beautiful sight of snow falling en masse, making everything look like a proper Christmas. There’s even Fathers out scraping the snow from the driveways as their kids play around them…well, at one house anyway. Let’s not get too twee here folks!
It’s amazing how the snow makes you feel. I burst out of bed this morning with drive and energy, despite recovering from a head cold, and raced up that hill. Looking out now I’m just so excited, I want to go out again and take more photos. Just a shame the light is fading fast, what little can be seen through the thick haze of snow. I’m a kid again.
Even better news? It’s supposed to keep going for the weekend, and possibly next week!
Well that’s over. Today was rain, and loads of it. Now the city of Edinburgh is wet again, looking just like a drenched, dreary town. Up in the heights where I am the snow still remains, just.
It’s sad to see what rain and warm ground does to snow, suddenly the magic of it all is lost and the road snow turns to a brown film of water, with banks of dark brown slush by the kerbs. On the pavements themselves the snow has lost its crisp lustre, and becomes damp and decaying. Pitted with the tiny holes of where the deadly spots of rain have burrowed through.
By tomorrow, I fear, all the snow will be gone, and I it may take another twenty years to see such falls again.