I got up this morning half expecting a blanket of snow, so was slightly disappointed when I opened the curtains and found nothing but grey and damp. I got on with whatever work I had to do and gave the snow not another thought.

The first opportunity in a considerable period for a little photography presented itself at lunchtime as I found myself with a couple of spare hours, and I decided to head out on the bus to Golders Green; maybe I’d take photos, maybe look in the various charity shops up there.

As the bus came over the brow of the hill up by Whitestone Pond I sat up in my seat, surprised and delighted to see an unusual sort of blossom on some of the plants on West Heath. It was only a moment before I realised that the elusive snow had settled up on the these wilder parts, but only on the very tips of the branches, and virtually nothing on the ground. The plants that were apparently in flower were actually last years cow parsley topped with hundreds of little snowballs!

I jumped off the bus outside Inverforth house and set off onto Sandy Heath. I was quite pleased with the results, though the are a poor representation of just how magical and charming the Heath was this afternoon. All was fantastic; the light coming and going; the sound of the gentle falling of melting snow; jays and small birds flying from place to place; and hardly a soul to be seen. It was very cold though!