I can only recall, perhaps, half a dozen Christmas Days in my lifetime of 51 years (of course disregarding the first few infant years when I had no awareness of the stuff), when the lightening of the dawn revealed a magical layer of white amongst a hard glaze of frost.
I got a bit confused by the December in 1978 in which major power shortages in the Winter of Discontent meant prolonged periods of candlelight coupled with a heavy fall of snow giving the impression of a month long festive period.
I clearly remember one particular Christmas when our local Co-Operative Store burnt down providing a strong sensory experience that lives on even today and is reactivated with the faintest whiff of smoke, be it from an extinguished candle or the output of an urban chimney pot.
About three years ago, or it could have been longer, there was a 6 week cold snap which saw a temperature range from minus 8.5 degrees Celsius overnight to barely minus 4 during the day. It was a complete white-out and eerily quiet as for once the majority of road users took on the advice of the authorities and decided that all journeys were non-essential, even the usual quick drive to the corner shop for fags and milk. There were tremendous icicles hanging off the eaves of the houses and it was possible to see which home owners had not yet lagged their loft spaces from the slow,melting progression of the thick layer of compacted snow down the roof slopes.
My reliance on the absolute minimum of insulation proved foolhardy as the resultant cascade of snow took with it a few slates and the heavy cast iron gutters on both the front and rear causing damage and a hefty bill.
In the UK, or at least in the lowland areas, the purchase of a sledge for Christmas is not top of the shopping list and consequently any fall of snow of suitable consistency and duration for recreation brings out the enterprising use of alternative means of riding the slopes.
A favourite would be a heavy duty plastic bag, those lying around the garden with a bit of fertiliser left in the folds being most suitable followed by good quality refuse bags and finally sheets of corrugated cardboard although the latter was very much a compromise given its tendency to get wet and turn into a coarse pulp mid hill.
All of the above gave little protection to the bum and spine from the rough ground under the snow on the way down any slight gradient. Any shouts and exclamations of exhilaration of a fast descent were rather grimaced as a consequence.
Snowfall is still a relatively rare climatic condition in my own experience of living in Britain.
Much of my 5 decades has been lived on the eastern side of the country in Lincolnshire and East Yorkshire. If the weather fronts bring in snow from the west then we receive only a light sprinkling. Most of it does not make it over the Pennines. The whitest Christmas periods have been from the arrival of dense clouds and cold Arctic air from the north east and east putting the east of England on the front line.
In the run-up to the end of the year I do keep a watch on the long range weather forecasts in the forlorn hope of a gradual decline in temperatures which would make a fall of snow more likely.
This has not been the case and indeed we have seen unusually high figures of 12 to 14 degrees in the first couple of December weeks. The lowest point has only been around 4 degrees and a frost has been largely absent.
Christmas Day 2014 was bright, clear and snow free where I live.
I did get excited on Boxing Day by the sight of a Premier League Football Match in the Midlands caught in a flurry of snow. I apologise for my glee upon the news of motorists in Sheffield having to abandon their vehicles due to impassable iced-up roads. I did feel a pang of jealousy for the members of a coach trip who had to spend the night in a church hall after getting stranded near Rotherham.
I have regularly searched the skies over local rooftops and the City Hospital in the direction of South Yorkshire for any signs of cloud formations associated with the imminent arrival of snow but have had to abandon the vigil as the dusk drew in.
The rainfall around tea-time just fell as rain although the thermometer was beginning to show a trend towards the low single figures. I expected the faint gurgling from gutters and downpipes to lessen with a fall in temperature until silent but nothing happened to suggest a snowfall overnight. Peering out of the bedroom curtains this morning was disappointing as there was only a pale white frost covering on the ground.
Nevertheless, I am determined to seek out some snow if it will not come to me here. The car will be prepared for difficult conditions and it is off in the direction of the latest news reports of traffic mayhem and chaos.
Success after a 128 mile round trip to the Yorkshire Sculpture Park, Wakefield
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