It's happening. This is the end. We're all going to die. Power outages, school closings, and train cancellations ransack the country, according to the BBC.
What is this terror laying waste to the United Kingdom, bringing civilization to a standstill? So far, about an inch of snow.
The Telegraph has posted a video of haggard drivers creeping through the dusting, navigating their way through a graveyard of stranded trucks and abandoned cars. They report "thousands" of school closings, panic buying at supermarkets, and "travel chaos." The Mirror posted the following dire headline last night:
Gripped by the big freeze: Panic buying and travel warnings with up to TWELVE inches of snow due
Lord have mercy upon our souls.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'll stop. Yea though I mock, I mock in love. I'm sure there are few cities in the world that look as beautiful as Oxford looks right now:
Speaking of snow, I have discovered something delightful about English weather. No, really. Stop laughing.
Let me explain. It's a normal state of affairs here for there to be a light, gray, endless drizzle going on and on, making everything just damp enough to be limp and wet and cold. Sounds great, doesn't it? Well I didn't come here for the weather. BUT, yesterday I made an amazing discovery about drizzle in winter. If the temperature drops low enough for this misty not-quite-rain to freeze, what we're left with is a light, sugary sprinkling of tiny dry snowflakes that don't make a mess, don't get you wet or make you cold, and don't accumulate. They're just tiny white specks of glitter in the air. I call it snizzle. Yesterday it snizzed all day long. It was lovely, especially after dark when the snizzle glowed white in the city lights against the black sky.
So now the snizzle has been upgraded to actual snow, just in time for my birthday tomorrow. Since I'm pretty sure a pony is not on the agenda this year, I'll put this snow down as my #1 birthday wish. Let the rejoicing commence.
The Appendices of Rejoicing:
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