11 MARCH Diary

Jayne phoned.  took photos . snow all day.

8.30 Driving wet snow. White sky.  The snow appears to be hurl ling its self with tremendous force at the earth.  Large pieces of sleet being driven by the east wind down Loungeville road. The world is the limitation of my eyesight's view from the bed through the window and across the road, where it is halted by the faces of the houses opposite that rise up into the white sky the grey slated of their roofs partially coated in snow.

       I wonder how many miles one flake of frozen water could be propelled  by the currant wind speed before disintegrating.  I suppose it depends on the directions of the force its self.  The speed of the wind is making the snow appear as tiny white dots not flakes as it rushes passed the window to continue on down the street.  It hardly has any time to settle on the colourful tops of the commuter vehicles before exploding into tiny droplets that slide down the car windscreens like huge tears. 

      The heating is on full and we are safe and warm in our bed.  Beside me Edward-Harry is reading a library book while I watch the snow, it is being driven so fast I can hardly distinguish one flake in the blur of white. 

    When there is a break in the momentum the flakes  appearing are like wings fluttering in a hopeless dance before crashing to death on  the tarmac...