Cold reality

by Emily Smith

In the middle of March, all across the UK, the day begins with the inevitable snow. Snow not only blankets the country but the newspaper headlines. Broadcasters send reporters out to the most remote locations and leave them there to inform the country that the white dots falling from the sky are in fact snow.

Snow brings with it decidedly mixed reception. (Image by Ben Philip)

We can all agree that Britain has experienced snow before. We can work out how snow might fall here. We are a northern country, a fairly cold country, and we have weather reporters armed with the required level of panic at the first sign of a storm. Yet somehow, every winter without fail, the snow leaves us shocked.

Schools close, roads become blocked up, and we decide we will become stranded and starve. Better get to Tesco quick. In a matter of hours a flurry of frozen water can turn the country into a blind panic.

Reporters stand shivering on bridges overlooking motorways almost drawn from a hat. The audience at home sit poised waiting to see what destruction the snow has caused this time. We hold our breath as the tension builds. Excitement, anger, the impending feeling of a rant coming on. Mother Nature can be very difficult to read. We must find out exactly how much snow has fallen and how many roads are gridlocked.

A centimetre. A scattering, if that. All this fuss and we find ourselves with our faces pressed against the television, desperately seeking chaos, something to complain about.

The reporter carries on with dramatic flair but the moment is dead. We demanded snow, but nature didn't play ball. Better go to work after all.

Let’s face it, we are never happy. We want snow, but we don’t. We want to have a day off work, but how will we pay off the mortgage? We lovingly take the kids outside to play in the snow, but bicker amongst other parents that their education is impaired by school being shut.

We woke up this morning with a snow headline on each and every news broadcaster, and the same will happen tomorrow. At least, we hope so, don’t we?