Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

snow dog 057

Ok, I own up. It is my fault. I washed the car. It was, after all, splattered with chalky mud from the jaunts of the past three days. So the snow can be laid squarely at my door. To be fair, a lot of it seems to be. Not so much squarely, as in undulating heaps. Many of them hiding the sleek, shiny lines of my little car.

Seriously though, the weather has behaved beautifully the last three days. It was only foggy where the mists could enshroud the ancient landscapes of myth and legend, enhancing the magical atmosphere and cloaking the world in mystery. Just enough snow to highlight the trees in the woods and make the deer visible. Cold, blasting winds only on hilltops where it felt right and they could blow a clarity of vision into our minds. A while ago I began to call this type of…

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