Let’s be careful out there …
Snow, like many things, is best sampled fresh. A familiar landscape sporting a new winter coat is familiar no longer: old lines are blurred, new ones picked out in the clearest of relief; depths of field are shifted, perspectives altered. We plant our feet where we might at other times step around and tread tentatively where we would, on a different day, move with confidence.
School and workplace closures had brought out the crowds – sledgers mostly – but they were concentrated on a few polished slopes and it was easy enough to give them the slip, finding the places where, our own footprints aside, only animal tracks had disturbed the surface of the snow.
By mid-afternoon the wind had strengthened and swung around to a north-easterly, whipping up eddies of spindrift and giving the pristine fields a scoured look; as if a few dozen hectares of tundra had somehow been scooped up, carried south, and deposited in the unlikely setting of north Worcestershire.