The white stuff

Yesterday the unthinkable happened. It snowed in Santiago, something everyone had assured me would never happen. Oh no, it never snows in Santiago the locals say, somewhat proudly though at the same time sadly, as if they were missing out on some rare and pure form of magic. I for one was glad, totally relishing what until now had seemed like easily the mildest winter I have ever witnessed. Coolish mornings and evenings with often spring-like moments in between...yes, I think I can handle that kind of winter. The occasional grey day, a few showers of rain every now and then, more like autumn than full-blown winter...

Not so yesterday. First of all it was cold and raining during the nursery run, first lightly, then more heavily, so much so that even DD2 tired of carrying an umbrella from here to her nursery (20 minutes increasingly puddle-surrounded walk at her pace). On the way back I couldn't believe how the rain was pelting down ever harder. Not just cats and dogs but cats, stray dogs and more... Halfway through my Spanish lesson my teacher was so enthused (or distracted) that she couldn't help but interrupt, draw herself closer to the window and wonder at the rare sight of huge, white fluffy snowflakes falling towards the ground. I too was awestruck by the scene though perhaps less so than the locals who had suspended talk of anything else and were indeed enjoying the novelty. The news showed images of young and old scraping up meagre clumps of icy snow to throw snowballs and make rather sorrowfully thin snowmen... Meanwhile at school and nursery snow was being drawn and snowflakes artfully sculpted and cut out to adorn our windows. No need really, this morning one could have been forgiven for glancing up and thinking one was in a ski resort for the fresh, glistening snow surrounding one on the omnipresent cordillera. As long as you forget it's August of course...