Bitter chill

Gerry snowy pic

Large areas of the UK are shiveringly stuck in the grip of icy weather after heavy snowfall.

Baby, it’s cold outside! Bad weather always dominates the UK headlines because it really does gives us something dramatic to talk about. The current cold snap is particularly welcome as we move towards the end of 2017, a year dominated by the ridiculous ongoing Brexit saga.

Better than a daily soap opera, with so many twists and turns, so many red herrings and – for heaven’s sake – so little time to sort the whole sorry shebang out, it’s refreshing to have a temporary distraction and change of subject.

This cold snap reminded me of the opening lines of a poem I studied for A Level English many years ago – The Eve of St. Agnes by John Keats.

It reads like a lyrical weather forecast:

St. Agnes’ Eve – Ah! bitter chill it was!

The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold;

The hare limp’d trembling trough the frozen grass,

And silent was the flock in woolly fold.

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