The snow is an equalising force, and not just because its free. It also serves to cover up the mess and the shit of the city. But 36 hours after the snow stopped falling, its already melted away in central London, where I assume the heat of the traffic and the buildings turned it to mulch pretty quickly. Out in the boroughs, however, the vast array of public spaces are still blessed white.
It will be the snowmen who last the longest. They are packed thicker than the ground snow, with less surface area exposed. Passing through Blackheath Common yesterday morning, I enjoyed the sight of a few dozen mounds, decapitated snowmen, monuments to Monday’s frolicking. Free from the humdrum of work for a day, how interesting that we suddenly come over all pre-historic, and construct a set of monoliths, our very own snowhenge. I wonder if they are arranged along ley-lines?