I left St Andrews and came home via Edinburgh. I'd managed to hit the sweet spot in between the chaos-inducing snow showers that paralysed the UK for much of December 2009 and January 2010. I arrived back in Manchester with bits of snow still left here and there, but the roads were clear and I was having a cup of PG Tips with my feet up on the sofa about half an hour after leaving Manchester Piccadilly.
It was a couple of days later that the snow came, more ferocious than the first time, and stubbornly refusing to leave until mid way through the month. It was beautiful to behold, but a nightmare to travel in. I was looking at the thousands of people inconveniencd by flight cancellations and thinking, yep, in a week that's going to be me...
To take my mind off that, I decided I was going to look at the snow and concentrate on its aesthetic qualities and not on the torment it would no doubt cost me. This involved going for walks and getting shin deep in the untouched flurries. I wanted to jump in it, but I was hindered by a number of factors: some of the snow still had the ice left over from the original covering making it really slippy; I was padded up and movement was a little restricted; and there was very little to launch myself off as the snow had gone and covered it all.
Still perseverance won out in the end and I found a little inclince to jump off.
Jumping in a Winter Wonderland
Manchester, England, 2009
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