Snow is quite unusual in London. You can feel the novelty of it, the way it transforms the city – not just the landscape, blanketed in a cloying whiteness which dusts eaves, softens edges and powders windowsills, but also the people, who go with a temporary estrangement from the monotonous grey. Everyone walks more slowly, and strangers smile at me as they pass, our eyes meet and crinkle knowing the shared secret inner joy of this interruption to our day to day. Or maybe they think I look funny in my huge coat, hat and gloves
