First snow

We have snow. Throughout yesterday there were flurries of cold wetness, solid enough to settle briefly on my attic window, and by early evening a thin layer on the street as well. We went out regardless: a client had promised us a cheque for collection at a poetry reading, which we intended to leave early because desperance had lured us away with promises of beef-stew-in-a-pumpkin. Traffic was heavy and slow, but we got there, first to the centre of town and then through snowier streets to our delicious dinner - and pretty with it, I wished I'd taken my camera (the pumpkin was dark gold and shiny, as if it had been lacquered). And, fortified by the inner glow of baked ginger pudding, made it home again, though the snow continued to fall and to settle.

There's been more snow overnight. The layer on the attic window is just slipping off, and the clouds are clearing, so there are patches of blue sky above me. Is this a good sign? I don't know. The recycling is still on the doorstep, but the large white van that was stuck across the width of the road has managed to extricate itself.

Last winter's snow started in mid-December; we're starting earlier this year.

That noise from outside

...is the recycling lorry coming up the hill. There is hope for this winter, after all...