It snows here, a lot.
It never snows in Ireland. Well, sometimes it snows, and now, but under normal conditions it does not snow in Ireland. I’ve lived here for over a decade. I’ve seen snow fall a few times, and I’ve seen it stay on the ground once.
Sure, it probably snows more often in other parts of Ireland, further up north, or at higher altitudes, but it does not snow where I live, in Cork, on the south coast.
It’s coming down in sheets and droves.
The schools are closed for the rest of the week. Shops are closed. Offices too – including mine. I lived in Sweden for nearly 30 years, and I never got sent home from work or school due to bad weather, but now it happened.
Yesterday we had the lovely fluffy kind of snowfall. Big flakes that cam drifting down slowly, or danced around on the wind. Today, it’s a different kind of snowfall. Small flakes whipped around by the wind and getting in your eyes.
It’s not as pretty or as pleasant to be out in, but it’s still snowfall, and it’s still mesmerising to watch.
As a kid, I always used to go out and go for a walk the evening the first snow came. For some reason, the first snow always came in the evening. It probably didn’t, but it’s how I remember it, so let’s go with that. There’s something magical about millions of snowflakes the size of your thumb drifting down towards you from the darkness above.
I loved standing under a street light looking up. It was kind of the same last night when I walked around looking at it. Tonight it’s not the same.
What’s happening outside the window is lovely and beautiful, but it’s also wrong. It will probably cost a fortune in damages and delays and whatnot, and in a few days it will all be gone. It’s just a single freak storm.
The snow will melt, the river will flood (yes, there’s a flood warning too), and things will go back to what they were a week ago. It’s weird.