Every year, either on Christmas Day or Boxing Day, I wrap up well and head outdoors, to listen to the absence of everyone. This year it was easy. Instead of going back to visit my Ma as is traditional, I’ve spent it in York. Her pipes are frozen (I mean that literally, not indelicately) and her house is on emergency … Read More
…after a week of being snowed under. In both senses. Snapped hurriedly as I crunched my way to work this morning. Note: it hasn’t snowed since Wednesday. It’s very cold. ********** In other news, despite my recent uncertainty and hand-wringing…it seems I *do* have a travel blog. Well, that’s me told. (And by the best, too. Consider me floored).
Whitby, February 2008. (Not warm). All photos: Mike Sowden.
The wind gusts suddenly, sending snow whirling past me and down the gaping, eye-sucking maw of the ski-slope at my back. Everyone else laughs. I think I screamed.
What happens when you’re getting too cold?