The wind finally dropped last night - and this morning we woke up to snow! This was wildly exciting for me, especially as I didn't have to go anywhere by train - or indeed, anywhere at all. I put my anorak on intending to leave the boat for the first time since Wednesday evening (when I nipped out to take some photos of a cat) but what with the boat being two feet away from the pontoon and all that lovely unspoilt snow, I thought I'd see if I could stretch out my voluntary confinement a little longer. Still got some nice photos though (can't upload from here, I know because I tried yesterday) and Jim took some too when he went into Ramsey for the papers, all the black fields white. I will have to leave tomorrow afternoon anyway, as we are off to Napton for the banter, having also agreed to meet not only Steve but a couple we met at St Ives who have a boat on the Medway and a very exotic engine (so exotic I can never remember what it is but it has one very large cylinder) which has been in the process of being rebuilt for quite a while.
Back to the snow: from in here it was quite magical - no one had been out and about and touched it at all. It continued to fall quite heavily for a while after I got up, but it's thawing now, at lunchtime. Perfect, really. I made a very small snowman, on the pontoon - with real coal-chip eyes, though I couldn't find a small enough carrot or broom - then shut the side hatch again and knocked his head off in the process. He is now the last remaining bit of crystallised frozen water gradually draining off the pontoon.
I am reminded of a winter walk we went on with Sebastian when he was about four. He picked up a chunk of ice and carried it with him for the duration, but when we got back to the car we had to persuade him that it wouldn't survive the journey home and the kindest thing would be to return it to the frozen ditch. This he sadly did, saying mournfully, 'I'll never forget that bit of ice.' And indeed he hasn't. Because we haven't let him.