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There was a heavy fall of snow last night continuing well into today.  This morning the sky was thick with flakes, the air white with excitement.
I put on my stoutest boots and warmest scarf and did hie me to the Regents Park in anticpation that spirited youngsters would throw snowballs at me and I would wave my cane at them and rail at their impertinence.  Well, traditions are there to be maintained.

The Park held more Londoners than a sunny Saturday.  Making snowmen, tobogganing their children down shallow slopes, throwing snowballs and admiring the frozen fountains.  Lovers walked mitt in mitt kicking the snow as they would the autumn leaves, it was a foot deep in places.

Missing, from a regular Park visit, were the characters who sit on the benches drinking tins of beer.  All to be found on the benches today were snowmen, they were in their element.

 

Leaving the Park I walked down Portland Place.  Opposite the Chinese Embassy the daily protest continued but was signified by an Amundsen bivouac.  A tent, big enough to hold a below average height Tibetan measuring his / her length had been pitched in the snow on the pavement.  The snow was that deep.

The metropolis has been v.calm and quiet today.  Much at a standstill.  It's been quite pleasant, except when you have to walk into the wind.


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