Snow. Its not something that we get here in Brisbane. Occasionally towns further a field such as Stanthorpe on the granite belt receive a little dusting of the white powder in the cooler months, but its certainly not something that occurs regularly. Over on the other side of the world in New England however its another story. The winter months of the year bring with them the certainty of snow, and not just a dusting either, snowstorms and blizzards in this part of the world can dump many feet of snow in just one night.

For the locals its a nuisance; it clogs the roads and makes them slippery, delays traffic, needs to be shovelled off driveways and paths, and swept off cars. For the tourist from a sun-baked country however its a white miracle. I love to watch the falling of the snow. I love the soft and quiet stillness of the air as the thick and heavy snowflakes drown out the sounds of the rest of the world as they drift slowly to the ground. On a recent and brief trip

 

the US I was fortunate enough to experience not 1 but 2 snowstorms. At this time of year (early spring) snowstorms are infrequent, and after a long and cold winter the locals were well and truly over it, but for me it was wonderful. I put on a warm scarf and a hat and headed out into the soft, white storm. This was my favourite sort of snowstorm; where large snowflakes, fat with moisture, stick to your face as you walk along. The heavy flakes quickly accumulated on the ground and clung to the branches of trees, turning the landscape into a sea of white powder, which contrasted nicely with the brown trees and shrubs. I always find these types of snow storms lonely and isolating, somehow melancholy, and these black and white images are a product of that feeling of loneliness. This evening storm didn't for last too long, and within a couple of hours it was all over, but it left behind a blanket of soft powder which made it feel like a scene from a northern hemisphere Christmas carol. In the morning, the dark world with its carpet of clean white was transformed as the sun began to rise. The snow sparkled in the early morning dawn and in the thickets of trees I could hear the birds calling to each other. The morning air had a certain warmth to it, indicating that spring time was definitely on its way.

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