There was one Sunday morning in January that felt like magic. The day it snowed brought so much joy that I wanted to write this to remember. As soon as it started falling at 9.30am, I put down my unfinished tea, threw on some jeans and my furry coat and ran out into the fluffy white snow to capture the magic while the snowflakes were falling from the sky. Slough, as did the rest of Berkshire, West London and Surrey, turned into a winter wonderland.
A break from the monotony of lockdown. Our normally silent road was brought back to life with laughter and joy, as isolated families came out to play. It was such a beautiful atmosphere, amazing to hear.
None of the children who live on our road have gardens. And I know they have been isolated this lockdown, with schools and playgroups being closed and not being allowed to visit friends. Especially hard if they are an only child. At least my two have each other to play with. I could see the excitement in all the children’s eyes, excited to see snow and other children, one toddler desperate to throw snowballs at us with his dad holding him back.
I felt it on this Sunday. Since the virus, people have been wary of each other, stepping back to give space, no eye contact. On this snowy Sunday all I saw were beaming smiles and sparkling eyes.
The snow has melted now. Life has gone back to its normal lockdown self. But I will never forget this magic.