December

London has snow again, the dry white powder that whips in from the north east with a chill and bitter wind. Our gardens and suburban streets are transformed, trees and plants dressed with iced blossom, roofs reflecting brilliance back to grey and overcast skies. Trudging back from the park, while we carefully negotiate the crunchy treacherous paths, the children newly released from school laugh, slide and catch an icy breath of air. Little ones play Santa in their bright toboggans, their parents reindeer pulling them home for hot drinks and cosy nights in.