Equality

The snow.
Thick snow in London.
Suddenly all that is urban is totally submerged by nature.
We are humbled and freed.
No Work.
No School.
Strangers on the street exchange smiles, frowns, words.
We're brought back to childhood.
We're all excited.
We're all cold.
It has unleashed huge creativity.
What a variety of snowmen and creatures and structures. No one feels restricted or self-conscious about making things in snow. It is purely about the pleasure of making, getting your hands stuck into the downy ice and using whatever you have at hand. Uncensored. And we know it won't last, we know it might not happen for another 18 years, so .... RUN.

And it is now that my camera packs up so I cannot share photo evidence, except the above overexposed whiteness. Here's a flickr search. This is my favourite so far. (Actually my camera stopped working during my guilty trip to Rome last week. Sistine Chapel + Ryanair = surreality)

Trying to slide fast down snowy hills has also brought out our ingenuity. Hurtling on trays, dustbin lids, plastic bags, suitcases, bread crates, a large frying pan, laundry baskets, house "For Sale" signs, road barriers, tires, a tennis racket, bathroom mats, a car door, a house door and many more unidentifiable or broken objects.

And we return home tired in a good way; having engaged physically and creatively with the world for no other reason than fun.

Tomorrow back to same old.