I will always count myself blessed that I can vividly remember my first snow.
Born in Hamburg and then home aged 6 weeks. Dad’s next foreign posting was to Singapore. No recollection of getting there but the abiding memories started shortly afterwards.
Sailing paper boats down the gutters in the monsoon and watching them vanishing down the storm drains, mindful of the assurances of the elder kids that it was a regular event for us young ones to be swept down said drains to oblivion. A magical night in 1953 when I watched a procession of brightly-lit floats passing to celebrate the Coronation of Her Majesty. For years afterwards, I believed that she had actually been present. Sneaking up to the perimeter fence to watch the Ghurkas parading in case they did the trick with the kukris and the chickens. Elder kid myth again.
Many more memories and the day arrived when Dad’s posting ended and we came home on the troop ship. The memories were being laid down thick and fast by then. Being called on to deck to watch schools of whales blowing less than 200 yards away. Leaving the ship at Aden and taking a horse carriage trip to the zoo. Sailing through the Suez Canal and looking out through the porthole to watch trains of camels etched against the horizon. The guly-guly man coming on board and mesmorizing all us brats with his magic.
Docked at Liverpool and trained to Dad’s next posting in Perth where, two months later, I started Primary School. It was all fairly uneventful and I had adjusted pretty well, having accepted that I was probably going to be permanently cold for the rest of my life. Then came that magic morning when I walked out of the front door and there was this white stuff drifting out of the sky and lying all over the ground. As a dutiful wee Sunday School pupil, I thought, at first, that it must be manna but it seemed to be of little nutritional value and my friends assured me that it was something called snow.
Love at the first feather-light touch of a snowflake on my cheek. I was half an hour late for school – this was a different world and time when we all walked there on our own with no parental security guards involved. I spent the entire day looking out of the classroom window, mesmerised by the lazy, heavy flakes as they drifted down.
Obviously, the passing years have dimmed that initial magic for me and I know that the stuff can be a total pain. There’s still something special for me in that first fall of the winter. And I don’t think that I’m alone.
I took this photo of Arthur’s Seat from the Calton Hill about 3.15 pm today. Less than half an hour to go before the sun set over an Old Town that was blanketed with the first snow of the season
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Moving on and in, the hills were alive with walkers waiting to watch that sunset. There are worse places to be, in my opinion.
Boadicea's Chariot 
Fantastic. Something so special about that light
The magic hours for a photographer, or an artist if they are quick enough – an hour after dawn and before sunset, produce this unique soft light and colour…
Excellent memoir, John. Some fine vignettes that were pleasing to read.
You’re right about the snow being a pain. Definitely plays havoc when travelling. I bet even your trams weren’t on today.
Much appreciated.
Much appreciated.
I just love snow, I really do, it is just wonderful, but it wears off very quickly.
I find my tolerance decreases with age, John, and it always takes one by surprise here in the Balmy South.
Wimps, that’s what we are, but I admit it!
All those poor lost souls in the second photograph are Charioteers waiting for the next game of battleships to break out. 🙂
OZ
Hi OZ.
Can’t understand why I can’t click on your name in ‘Recent Comments’ or in my own post but I’ll leave it to Bearsy and Soutie to work out and hopefully explain that.
More importantly, I could not possibly distract authors by resurrecting the ‘Battleships’ game just now when some of us do not yet appear to have managed to submit our entry for Janus’s CW competition? Less than 47 hours to go, by my reckoning.
Snow is indeed beautiful to look at – from the inside of a nice warm house.
I remember many years ago travelling to Aberdeen overnight by coach. It was snowing and it looked amazing through the windows of the coach… that is until the heater stopped working.
I have never been so cold and miserable (read grumpy!) before or, thankfully, since. The journey took half as long again as it should because the driver had to keep stopping to allow us to get hot coffees and to thaw out.
Keep the pictures coming – I’ll admire your scenery from the safe distance of the other side of the world!
Super photos John. Oh so lovely magical memories, and there’s nothing more magical than childhood memories of the first snowfalls. Yes, snow does cause havoc, but we can’t deny it’s magic. I would love to be able to share the glories you have up there in the highlands, I wonder if CWJ will come and fetch me in his plane so that I can share a bowl of porridge with you both? Keep the photos coming please.
My love affair with snow ended in a white out in the Austrian Alps. Only good luck saved my neck.
My children have never seen snow!
I recall many a beer at ‘The Arthur’s Seat Hotel’ in Seapoint (Cape Town) during the early ’80’s, just had a quick google, it’s still there!
(As I understand it you can’t click on Oz’s name, or mine, or quite a few others for that matter ’cause we don’t have WordPress blogs for you to visit)
Correct, Soutie. They can have their Gravatar Hovercards switched on again if they like, though. Mind you, they could also read the WordPress Support pages instead of whinging and expecting someone else to do it for them … 😦
Morning, Bearsy,
Duly noted and I will try harder to be self sufficient in the future. Mind you, what you seem to regard as ‘whinging’, I think of as a polite request for information in exactly the same way as you asked me what ‘TMS’ was. Perhaps I should just have told you to go and google yourself?
Smiley thing and the draw was the right result. I await the announcement of the Australian team for Adelaide with interest.
Touché, Sir! I am suitably chastened.
Our bowlers were awful – your batsmen were magnificent.
Ricky’s swift 50 with Watson in tow went a little way towards rescuing me from the depths of despond, but honestly, our bowlers and CA should be put out of their misery … 😦
I love it I love it I love it.
Bring it on, I never tire of snow. Had to dig the trusty Polo out of a foot and a half of the stuff this morning then dig tracks for 300 yards of back lane just to get it out onto the mildly treacherous stuff.
Unlike Minty MBE, it never wears off for me. Did I say I love snow?
I find it magic too, unless I have to go out in it, but a 4×4 plus chains inspires a little more confidence these days! I take good care to stock up rather heavily obviating the necessity of going out. We did totter forth for Thanksgiving dinner to friends but they are only 5 miles down the road and it was reasonably well compacted and only 4″ or so. Apart from that we have not emerged for over a week. Ours has all melted now.
Val, you will be waiting a long time if you want me to fetch you in my plane, not because I wouldn’t want to, but I sold my 1/3rd share at the end of April. Whilst Kinloss remains open and I remain a member of their Flying Club, of course I am left with the option of renting a club aircraft, when the mood takes me, and more importantly, the bank balance, allows!
With the Nimrods disposed of, it seems a very large aerodrome for three Club Cessnas and one or two private aircraft 😦
How’s Edinburgh this morning, John?
A crisp 15F (-9.44C) this morning when I was out ploughing our way out…
Oh that’s a shame CWJ, but when increasing costs hit, one has to be sensible. Keep the photos coming instead, they are a good consolation prize 🙂
This was the weather for my 21st birthday celebrations:
http://www.weatheronline.co.uk/reports/philip-eden/Snowiest-of-20th-century.htm
But this lot is even earlier!