Alas, when a light dusting of snow falls in the Upper Blue Mountains, a percentage of Sydneysiders lose their collective minds. I encountered a large number of these folks as I was driving back from Penrith, the roads clogged for kilometres by their over-sized vehicles. I knew full-well that most of the snow this side of Blackheath would likely have melted by early afternoon, the sun now becoming warmer as we prepare for Spring, a sure hazard to the thinning layer of snowflakes. But I wish them well and happy hunting.

Snow brings on deep thoughts and I think that a melancholy might result from gazing too long into its omnipresent whiteness. It can erase the detail and colour from a landscape as much as add to it. I think living in snowy climes might have the effect of inducing withdrawal from the world and going deeper into the self. I remember feeling as much during the cold Japanese winters, a hot sake an adjunct to the process of ongoing reflection. Mr Frost may have felt so too.

"The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep."