One of my favourite things about winter is that it means it’s cold, and that means there is a chance of snow each year. However, when you live in the South of England, snow doesn’t happen very often.
I don’t think I’ve ever woken up to snow on Christmas day, and I doubt I will. But there’s something magical about that idea, isn’t there? Or is it just me?
I’m a complete and utter fangirl whenever it comes to snow. I remember when I was in Year 7 (for those who don’t understand the English Education system, Year 7 is the first year of high school so I was 11) and we were in Art which was our last lesson of the day, and we were making masks. I was using my friend as the base, and it started snowing. Everyone who wasn’t being used as a model ran to the window and got all excited about it because it rarely snows like that here.
Usually when it snows, it’ll be a little bit which won’t settle so there’s no point in even trying to get the sleds out of the garage.
A few years ago we had a really bad storm in my town, and there was loads of rain and hail and snow, so we had a few days off school. The river flooded, and there were these massive ice blocks from the hail and snow which froze over and it was complete and utter chaos, but for an 11 year old, it was the best because we didn’t have to go to school, and we could play outside.
People complain about snow the whole time, but I think it’s great. Mainly because I’m still a child at heart, but also because adults always complain that kids don’t get out enough, so then when it snows they actually have an excuse to freaking go outside! When I was little I loved going outside anyway, and the snow just made it better.
I understand that snow gets in the way of things like travel, and people have jobs they need to go to and they want to be paid, but it’s snow at the end of the day. It’ll go away soon enough, and everything will go back to normal for another year.