Winter wonderland - everything's turning to white

Well, we certainly got our high pressure.  Today was simply divine.  The skies were as clear as can be and, thanks to the unusual conditions yesterday, we were treated to some magnificent ice displays.  Yesterday, as reported, was very cold but foggy.  There was so much moisture in the air that everything was coated in water; but, of course, it wasn't water, the subzero temperatures meaning that everything was coated in ice.

The afternoon's snow flurries meant that a dusting of snow settled on the ice, and the minus 10 overnight baked these ice crystals into solid ice coverings on everything.  As Paul Kelly sang and continues to sing, 'Everything's turning to white'.  I'd really like to make this chapter really long because I took so many beautiful 'winter wonderland' photographs this morning, but even I realise that both of this blog's readers can only stomach so many meterological observations - and today the truly splendid weather really was the story, for once.

For the layout of the blog, I need x amount of words per photograph so, while I'd like to put up 20 pictures, I'll have to settle for just a handful because there really is only so much one can say once one's used words such as 'divine', 'brilliant', 'ethereal', 'stunning', and 'idyllic' a few times each.  It's been below zero all day, but there hasn't been a breath of wind and one would have had to have something wrong with one if one had been outside thinking, 'Gosh, it's cold' rather than 'Gosh, it's breath-takingly beautiful'.

Nothing lasts forever, though, and in particular nothing lasts forever when it's perfect.  And I'd say that we'll be having one day and one day only of this paradise.  My friend John McNamara has made many memorably apt observations, one of which is, "Snow's OK until it melts", which is spot-on because once all this lot melts, we'll be living in a morass.  (Is that the right word?).  However, it's not going to melt just yet so things aren't that bad (we're not the East Anglian equivalent of Herbert Lom's verdict on Gstaad, on hearing that Inspector Clouseau is heading there on the trail of the Pink Panther: "Today, a paradise in the Swiss Alps; tomorrow, a wasteland".)

No, we aren't going to lose our snow and ice just yet, but I'm afraid that we're going to lose our blissfully clear skies.  In fact, we've already lost them.  The clouds had moved in by early afternoon and, while it'll be slightly less cold tonight as a result (minus 4 instead of minus 10) we could cop another layer of snow.  Which would be fine, except that we're planning to take Magic Ice off down to Lingfield in the morning.  Leaving aside the general point of driving around the country on snowy mornings, the particular concern is that Lingfield is prone to cancellation on snowy days, the problem being not the track but the access roads.

So we'll just have to hope that Lingfield isn't called off, and also that, if it isn't called off, we're able to get there and back in safety and reasonable time.  She ought to run well if it's on - and, looking on the bright side, if it isn't she would have another opportunity six days later, because there's another five-furlong maiden race at the same course only next Thursday.  But it would be good to run tomorrow - while it would be very bad indeed to set out tomorrow, get into all sorts of trouble on the roads and not run, either because the meeting isn't on or because we can't get to it.  Fingers crossed.