Sunday 17 November 2013

Lightning and Snow

In the wee hours of an enchanting wintery morning, the residents of my quiet borough were woken up abruptly by a rare phenomenon. A lightning struck at the rooftop of Hotel Saga, one of the more established hotels in the city, striking an aerial and causing temporary breakdown in a radiotelephone network.

The encounter caused a roaring explosion heard in several boroughs in the city and certainly caught my attention. We can see a section of the hotel and the rooftop from our bedroom window and had the blinds been up, we'd actually seen the occurrence for ourselves. At the very least, I would have seen the flicker of light in the distance.

Hotel Saga in the background. Photo by JB.
But I only heard the lightning strike from the other side of my blinds. Nonetheless, it was an extraordinary way to jumpstart the day (not that I didn't go back to sleep…).

It was simply the perfect start to a perfect winter day.

The perfect snowfall - just enough to light up the world. Photo by JB.
And as winters go, I wouldn't mind a mild but a snowy winter season like that of today. 

As is to be expected, I was reluctant to retire from the comfort of my cozy home on this cold winter day. At roughly 10 o'clock in the morning, I could no longer avoid the dreaded first toilet-break for my adorable dog Emma. It was surprisingly refreshing to step out into the bright morning and let her do her thing. There are times when the weather is not so perfect and I have rushed her to finish as quickly as she can, but this morning it was lovely to step out and feel the sun's warm rays.

It was still cold and as Sunday mornings go, it's always tempting to do as little as possible - no matter how perfect a day is, the cold always comes as a surprise.

But when I finally did leave my warm bubble, it was more than worth it.

My borough Vesturbær on this beautiful Sunday afternoon. Photo by JB.
A dog takes more pleasure from playing in the snow than us humans are ever capable of doing. My Emma's thick and fuzzy fur is warm and soft. She is not restricted to the layers that I pile on as the days grow colder and is unafraid to roll in the soft snow without feeling the cold on her paws. She so loves the cold snow and devours it every time she takes a bite from the frozen grounds.

Her fascination with the world, the way she holds her head up high no matter how strong is the wind, or how the snow flakes blow in her cute Labrador Retriever face, is illuminating and a gesture to actually look out into the world.

Life in little Reykjavík - ever-so-slightly enhanced. Photo by JB. 
Each season is magical in a unique way. Winter is always going to be cold in the northernmost capital of the European continent, and at times, exquisite beyond belief. The snow lights up the dark winter days and the mood changes. Even the fading plants glow on the snowy grounds and the whole world is a striking contrast to the grayish clouds above. It is as if the world is draped in a transcendent veil.

In the cold snowfall, all exposed flesh is unsheltered from the cold and the cheeks turn red while my Emma's fur is nearly as white as the snow. A thin set of gloves no longer suffices.  

Wool gloves with fleece interior is what it takes to survive a cold Sunday afternoon...

...and probably not a bad idea for tomorrow's -5°C as the car windscreen won't clear itself.

Emma's playground. Photo by JB.  
The month of November is never more appealing than on days like today.  Despite having to get used the early onset of darkness, the daylight hours are worth enjoying in this very first month of authentic winter.

And if it weren't for my dog, I'd probably miss out on days like these. And that would be the real shame. 
   


   

No comments:

Post a Comment