After a bitterly cold night, the temperature hasn’t risen above freezing today, even though it’s been a day of sunshine and glorious, clear blue skies (actually, probably because…).
I went over to Thurstaston common with the dog and had a great, though treacherous walk, clambering up to get views of snow-covered meadows stretching down to the Dee. Thor’s Stone looked quite different in the snow.
Essay on Snow
We have been here before, but not often.
With the blue snow lying on the shaded roofs
And the city beyond them
Lying open, miles of it, with no-one there
Untrodden parks and freezing underpasses.
The statuary anonymous, the cobbled chares
Like streams of blackened ice.
There is a bird somewhere. Its voice
Is like chipping an icicle,
Damping the note, then trying again.
We have lived in the wrong place forever,
But now we can see what we meant.
The blue snow-shade behind the house.
The abandoned allotment, the shed,
The rags of willow-herb, the one-note
Samba of the bird inside the ice.
– Sean O’Brien