We have had a genuine cold snap in recent days, reminding me of the time I first moved to Hazelbrook. On Thursday night, the Upper Mountains had its biggest fall of snow since the 1980's, an event that caused some havoc on the roads and railways. We are not set up for moderate falls of snow, though in a few months time, we will be better prepared for bushfires. We do droughts and floods quite well too. Snow, well...

Consequently there has been a torrent of media and social media reportage and I won't bore you with the details of snowmen, whooping kids or blithe yuletide scenery, except to say, that there were massive drifts of it. Having lived though four Japanese winters (and while I love the sensation of waking to a white frosting of silence) I am less-than-sanguine about it all. But pleased nevertheless.

Yesterday Tom's nana, Elaine, took him to the icy reaches of Katoomba where he played happily for an hour or two. Elaine took a few photos and I hope to have better resolved ones, soon.




waking to bleached silence
snow-fall an unvoiced conspiracy-
blankets tighten