Shoveling the arctic oscillations with a cereal box & smiling about it

A snow day in Oxford is like stepping into a quaint little fairytale book (read on, not as annoying as this sounds)--

After six days of sun since our arrival, the snow began to fall in heaps last night & by morning we had over a foot covering everything.  Lovely of course, & no big deal for a person from the Rocky mountains, right?  Well, yes, but no one owns a snow shovel here & the last time it really snowed like this was in 1987 according to the BBC this morning.  They don't really have snowplows--though I did see one guy with a jeep and a quasi-plow driving around &...not plowing.  So, to Oxford it is quite a very big deal & how to handle a foot of snow? --Well, step into a fairytale world where once upon a time,

all the schools closed
all were encouraged to stay home, get out the sledges, and simply enjoy the snow
and leave work and driving and things to do for another day
followed with endearing phrases thrown out like arctic oscillations, snow villains, and Oxford at the    epicenter of the worst storm ever.
Where everyone did as told, stayed home, left their teeny cars buried,
bundled up in scarves, wool coats, and rainboots,
had town-wide snowball fights,
& I mean everyone,
even the police were throwing snowballs at each other in the park near our house,
and if they weren't throwing snowballs they were carrying them in their hands on the ready,
and there were snowmen built everywhere, really giant ones
because the snow is perfectly sticky
and people made beautiful snow artwork outside of their places of business
and the only shoveling we saw was one man with a cardboard cereal box clearing an area by his gate & another with a rake attempting to rake a bus stop of snow (and making no progress whatsoever) & a third with a regular dirt shovel clearing the bank's entrance...very very sweet...with snowballs cascading all around & occasionally beaning you right in the head or on the shoulder with just a laugh and a shrug in place of apology as if to say, "it might not snow again--you might not get hit again with my snowball for another twenty years--what else would you have me do?!"

& so Naya and I slept until 10am, then walked to town centre, walked under the Bridge of Sighs, down an ancient snowy, maze-like alley, into Hertford college to pick up my orientation packet, then past the place I'll meet the x-country team next Wednesday at 1p instead of today, and all around the alleys & roads & sidewalks & bridges of Oxford with no cars driving and so so many of the jolliest people I've ever seen.

I was just feeling a little tug for Whitefish's powder & a proper winter yesterday--and no doubt, Whitefish's exuberance is no less than this...but like everything it is done from a slightly different angle...there, gear is brought out & collective jolly recreation occurs & reassures everyone why they live where they do...here, everyone is ill-equipped drastically, no gear & collective jolly wandering occurs & reassures everyone that nothing at all has changed here in the last one thousand years...they still live in the world of once upon a time that has no indication at all of going anywhere if you look into their eyes.

woman in a red hat by the Thames (Isis)

woman in a lavender hat with a new bike

view in town center

very pretty, yeah?  wish I'd taken some shots of the snowballers though...the looks in their eyes was really something I would have liked to share.

P.S. Wish me luck that Naya's school is open tomorrow as I have orientation from 9a-4p in beautifully old Hertford college, in a room that I have to walk over the Bridge of Sighs to get to & I am so excited for this aspect of the adventure to begin!  But begin it will either way--with or without my four foot four inch sidekick.