London – I’ll tell you what. It’s been snowing quite heavily for a couple of days now, and I can’t get enough of this weather. As soon as I got to work, I was the first – and I’d say only ever – one out on the third floor terrace, pushing prints into the thick carpet of freezing snow that had settled up there. I know how the caught mackerel feel now. You know, when they’re thrown by the fisherman into those hard plastic crates of ice out at sea. Here’s some video I took on my phone while alone on the terrace. At the end, you can really see how hard it was coming down:
As soon as I got home, I nearly ran up the stairs to get the camera set up for more:
The international press are calling it a Siberian Blast. To honest, it couldn’t have come at a better time. I’ve been learning about the Russians and their history for some time now, and this weather really puts me in a good place in understanding where that lot are coming from and why they’re like that. On that topic, if you can, you should endeavour to watch The Death of Stalin. In terms of its cinematic and darkly comedic realising of the nightmarish realities of the inner party of the USSR , it is as bloody sharp as a fish knife.
It will be seen if I can make it into work tomorrow. To see such a mighty and magnificent and wild city tamed by a slap from mother nature herself is quite a remarkable happening.
You can now follow my increasingly strange adventures on Instagram here.
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