I remember a line from a song at primary school that went… “Snowy flakes are falling softly, covering all the world in white…” I don’t know how it continues, but I do know that every time it starts to snow, those words start singing to me. What’s more, they are often accompanied by the taste of Dutch Shortcake. Proustian? Maybe. Maybe not.
Both the words and the biscuits came to me today – the latter in a blue and silver packet – when I looked out of the window to see a sky positively laden with snow. They are with me now, dancing around me like the snow flakes the song describes, and leaving me in no doubt that wherever I was when I first experienced their delights, must have been good, comforting places.
Perhaps that is why I have always loved snow so much.
