I woke to snow this morning and a strong sense of silence and isolation. The snow muffled the sounds of traffic from the village and I felt like I was on another planet. Looking out into the pristine garden I recalled my childhood excitement at each snowfall. I opened the bedroom window and gathered a hand full of white from the sill. The cold made me feel more alive. Years ago I had a collie-cross dog called Floss who loved the snow, ploughing through it with his head down snuffling and snorting, rolling around in a frenzy. He would return home eventually with tiny snow balls dangling from his long hair, thawing out all over the house and leaving puddles in his wake. Cats are far more sensible. Nadia went out warily, making staccato steps as the snow stung her soft pads. She left a delicate solo track across the decking where my green Buddha looked on serenely.
“I do not dispute with the world; rather it is the world that disputes with me.”