Of Snow And It's Quirks

January 6, 2010
10:51 am
The Matchbox

Ever since I came to Cardiff, I have been dying to see Snow. Hailing from a city like Delhi, where the average temperature never goes below 30-degrees Celsius for the better part of the year, I was confident that my eternal dream of seeing a soft white quilt spread across the courtyard outside my window one fine morning would finally come true here. After all, its the UK. The land of whimsical delights.

The dream was on the verge of getting trampled when the inhabitants here told me that it "rarely snows in Cardiff" and that its "mostly rain". Everytime somebody would say this winter is going to be 'warm and wet', my heart would plummet further. This year, it seemed, the weather was on a whimsical mode. One day would be bright and sunny. The next day, dark clouds and rain. This unpredictability is predictable here. However, the frequency of weather change became a matter of hours soon. As days went by, an hour in a day would be bright and chirpy. The next, the sky would be mourning.

Initially, this loftiness of the sky took some time getting used to. However, with time, we learn. Soon, this phenomena became beautiful. I began to appreciate the ever-changing colour of the sky:  from a bright blue to a dark grey to a pale pink and an inky blue: all in the span of a day. I began to appreciate the icy cold wind that blasted (and still blasts) my face everytime I step out of the building. I began to appreciate the people around me, the locals, who have been enduring the rain and the sleet and the sludge for years on end, still walking to work every day. Humans adapt to nature. It is the way of life. And appreciating all that we see around us makes it a happy way of life.

Coming back to my trampled dream, it seemed the Sky-Lord heard my prayer too loud and clear. I saw snow. I felt snow. I walked in it. I trudged in it. I slipped on it. Heck, I even hitchiked in it! And I experienced all kinds of it.

It all started in Cwmbran, a so-called New town in South East Wales, two train stations away from Cardiff. It was established in 1949 (pretty recent). Cwmbran, in the Welsh language means 'a Valley of Crows.' Am clueless why its called that. The crows there are as abundant and annoying as they are everywhere else. The big, black scary beings.

One winter evening in December, while walking back from the massive shopping centre, small white flakes began to fall on me. I thought it was dandruff! And then I thought it was rice crispies. And then, my friend who had accompanied me, exclaimed "Its Snowing!" And my reaction was "THIS is SNOW!" I had a very different version of snow in my head. Anyway, I captured as much as I could. These microscopic little rice flakes.

That was my first. And then it never ended. The little rice flakes would fall in great numbers and form a blanket, which would soon turn hard ice, which would soon melt into sludge (thanks to the bright sun the next day!). I would trudge in the sludge every morning and skid my way about town throughout the day.

In Bristol, the snow is typically English. Settled and hard on the surface. Put your foot down in it, and it melts. Just like them:)

As December grew on, the weather became a yo-yo, quite literally. The mornings would see bright sunshine and a chilly breeze. The evenings would witness snowfall. At one point, in a span of an hour, I saw snowfall and the sun, each 'phenomenon' lasting for fifteen minutes alternately, at a stretch!

January 5, 2010 11pm was a momentous day and time for snow-seekers like me. It snowed. Big, fat flakes of snow. And when the snow fell down, it wasn't hard as ice. It was soft, flimsy like candyfloss. Everyone was out. Making snowmen, throwing snowballs. Two boys even tried sledging using a grill pan!

And the next morning, I saw it. My dream. A white blanket of soft snow right outside my window. Felt like the clouds had settled in themselves, sleeping cosily, ornamenting the trees (both the leafy and the twiggy ones) with their little tufts.

The Snow experience in Cardiff has been an immense delight for me so far. I hope the dream lasts all this month.

However, the yo-yo whims of the weather, though fun, are a bit of a worry. Almost as if nature is trying to tell us something. Its playing with us. And its trying to warn us. Global Warming, anyone?

And yes, a word from the "snow expert" : Falling Snow is way better than Fallen Snow:)