snow days and inner children

November’s harsh transition into colder days and nights reminded me of the winters that I have had living in Leeds.

The snow sits so nicely on the terraced houses and in the park. It makes Hyde Park seem like a postcard village, rather than a slightly run-down student area. Rubbish is covered by clean white snow. The houses are a combination of Victorian and Edwardian back-to-back houses and terraces. For whatever reason the exterior of most houses, other than maybe window fittings (if you’re lucky) have remained untouched. The snow on them looks like a traditional Christmas Card.

I thought about this a lot in the months that Leeds had a lot of snowfall – one of the times was in the lockdown at the beginning of 2021. It brings people together in a communal realisation about the impermanence of everything.

The knowledge that the snow will be gone by tomorrow and if not definitely by next week, harnesses a spirit in us to make the most of it. Something that I think lies in us all, but we forget about it in amongst everything else.

For the snow, people drop plans and lectures and worries about the cold and just go out in it. And the fact we all live with our friends and without parents in Hyde Park makes it a bit more wholesome. People sledge on baking trays and make snowmen that they genuinely feel proud of. Wholesome. I spent a whole amazing day making a snowman in our front garden last year whilst the people in my house worked. You can throw yourself around in it like you did when you were smaller because it cushions the consequences.

I think the snow just creates an alternate reality where, even if its only for a day, we all grasp the momentariness of everything. It shows how we would treat things if we were acutely aware of their fleetingness, maybe. Maybe its just really fun and reminds us of how excited it made us as children.

I think the snow is so cute.