Coming back from Greenwich this morning, we found ourselves driving through heavy sleet and we said “here it comes!”
After all the fuss, we had expected to wake this morning, to at least a few inches of snow.
But I didn’t need to look outside to know it hadn’t arrived.
There is a sound to snowfall.
Or more accurately perhaps, an absence of sound.
It’s a particular hush.
There is the distant crunch of tires in the snow, the metallic sound of a plough scraping roadways.
However, it is reportedly a massive storm and we could not assume that it had passed.
So we decided to venture out while the going was good.
On our way back with our few purchases, down it came.
Great blobs of wet snow.
Nothing to be excited about, but for once there were no complaints about the “putt-putt” in front of us!
Arriving back in Cambridge we found there, nothing was happening.
My iPhone is convinced that it is snowing, never mind that the temperature is several degrees above freezing.
And, it insists, this will continue until 10 o’clock tomorrow morning.
While I will concede that the atmosphere is a little damp, currently you could not call it rain, certainly not snow.
It would be premature though, to call it a non-event.
One ought never to tempt fate.
The sparrows continue their feeding frenzy and we have had a few other visitors.
Two nights ago Grant observed that there was a deer lying down beside the apple tree, which seemed odd. But there it was, in the snow grazing on whatever it had unearthed.
It was a large stag, but it was too far away to capture a photograph in the dark.
After a while he was gone.
Then last night there was a possum, a sizeable female. We watched as she picked peanuts out of the assortment on the patio.
Grant felt she wasn’t moving properly and when she finished eating she turned and dragged herself off. There was a problem with her back left leg.
There was no evidence of a wound so we could only guess what might be wrong.
We often see animals that are impaired in one way or another.
Some recover. Some we never see again.
The are wildlife rehabilitators, so the question is should we attempt to catch the injured animal, subjecting it to what must be serious trauma?
In which case we would have to care for the animal till it could be transported a considerable distance for possible treatment.
Wild animals can certainly be rehabilitated and returned to the wild and ideally that is what I would like to do, but I am always afraid that by interfering, I may cause more suffering.
Today’s WordPress “prompt”: “What is one thing you hope people never say about you”?
I would hope no-one ever says that I didn’t care.
This looks and sounds exactly the weather we have had for the last few days! Stay warm!
That is totally the right thing to hope people never say about you. Would that there were lots more people who thought that way!
Nobody will ever say that you didn’t care, Carolyn.
Best wishes, Pete. x
Thank you Pete.
Thank you, Carolyn, for interesting thoughts, and like you I care. I you read how I saved a feral cat in the depts of terrible winter, you would approve. Sorry, I am reading your post so late but I was finishing my post yesterday.
Joanna
Where can I find your story about the cat?
I always fancied ‘He did no harm’ on my gravestone. I think, on balance, I’d probably be happy with that.
On the grave of Denys Finch-Hatton (Out of Africa) “He brought us joy, we loved him well”. Rather a nice epitaph, I think.
Spike Milligan’s gravestone. ‘I told you I was ill!’
You have one of the most beautiful and biggest hearts I know of!
What a kind thing to say! I just love all creatures and always have.