Interestingly, as the planet warms up, (and snow melts elsewhere) England will become colder. The warm ocean currents that power, or more accurately, comprise the warming phenomenon are driven by the salts present in the sea. As the concentration of salt lessens, due to increased volumes, the warming effects will lessen, because the currents will grow less strong. Trace your finger, from London, around to the other side of the world following the same latitude. You'll find we are pretty much level with Canada, and you know how warm it is there.
It will be interesting to see how much the sea shields us from the extreme weather they have, as it acts as something of a hot water bottle in Winter, and a cooling mist blower thing in Summer.
I waited for dark so I could use the flash, and take pictures of the thousand snowflakes falling. If the snow if heavy enough you can generally do okay without a flash, but it wasn't that heavy. Like all things English, it was simply persistent, and despite an hour of simply muddying the ground, this snow finally found some legs and settled.
This kind of mid-air snowfall is worth literally (some amount of) money in Hollywood, as producers and directors strive to get this effect. The Matrix designers took three months to get the right sized rain droplets for the final scene. Madness.
This is not to be confused with the Australian outback; which is somewhat colder than here. What with all the super-chilled Fosters and accompanying ice cubes and whatnot.
And herein lies the problem with snow in England. It happens once, maybe twice a year; and for an hour it looks fantastic. You have that one hour window to look at the snow, and take pictures of it looking pristine, before it's swamped by footprints and mud. Only, it's usually not mud, of course.
This picture shows the problem with sporadic snowfall really. This has already been trodden into an icy layer, with the snow remaining underfoot only where no man dares tread. The sides of any path are, obviously, out of bounds for human feet; so the snow remains untouched in these places.
It did create an interesting roadblock though.
It will be something of a shame to see this go. I feel there's a romantic sentiment surrounding such things, as it slowly becoming part of the earth that sustained it is an endless theme within our own lives; and this tree mirrors us, as does all nature, eventually.
This created an interesting phenomenon, whereby small spheres of snow appear in open spaces of untouched snow. This happens because an obstruction (this could be anything, from a clump of fallen snow, to a garden gnome) becomes a nuclei, onto which snow sticks. As the wind blows, it causes more snow to stick, until the obstruction is fully coated. I can imagine a mystical snowball fight taking place on our lawn, but science explains it away in my mind before each faction is fully realised within my own mind.
And this was the snow we had. I love the name Yuki in Japanese, which, as I understand it, means snow. I love that. I love it so much that simply saying it is a pleasure.