When Marc woke me up at 7 am sharp today, I didn't appreciate it. It was Sunday and usually I get to sleep in until the church bells clang away happily at 9:30! But my groans were stopped the instant I looked out the window--a winter wonderland! The sky was bright blue and the world was white. It accentuated the chimney tops on all the cottages along the street, and the trees all balanced an icy load on every branch. Snow! We hurried outside, where, early as it was, parents were already hustling behind their eager kids dragging sleds down the street. The were all headed for the churchyard path, across the street from our door, that leads to Abbey Fields. The grounds of the old monastery seemed more filled with cheer than any group of pious monks could ever have achieved. The long sloping hills were crowded with squealing children and equally gleeful parents sliding down the snow on toboggans, plastic bags, and dusty sleds that hadn't been used in years.
'We'd bettah get sledding', we heard one mum say to her tiny son as he stumbled through the snow, 'it won't snow again for three yeahs!'
Children chased sleds down the hill, and dogs chased them, tails wagging. One especially delighted 'daddy' (read with English accent) slid precariously on a child-sized snowboard until performing a glorious face-plant, getting up, and taking a bow. Mothers chased their families around with cameras, and all around, serious photographers, tripod-in-hand, wandered smiling around the park. The morning was magical and the whole town knew it. The fields, the lake, the castle were all glimmering. When winter comes but once in three years, it is a delightful sight to behold!