Pure as the Driven Slush

When I think about the snow, the picture in my head is always of pure blankets of white loveliness.

The reality in the UK  though, is that  snow is only deep and crisp and even when it’s actually snowing  – which is when I don’t particularly want to be out in it; when I want to be tucked up at home with a roaring fire and a hot toddy. Here, once the snow has stopped,  it just turns to slush,  and human feet plodge it all up (and, this afternoon, my feet have been contributing to the general, browning, grimy ploosh…)

Which made me think…

…it’s like promise and fulfillment. In your head, the promise always looks like a pure vision of loveliness; but when you get there, and the promise is fulfilled, it’s astonishing how much grime comes too…

That’ll be the human feet, no doubt…

Let he who has gumboots ploosh…

 

JB

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