Beauty after the beast

Wednesday was still autumn, lingering, deceitfully promising a mild winter. It was plus five degrees Celsius and glorious – winter deferred. Some people, not me, noted the forecast and mentioned in passing “a storm’s coming,” and I shrugged in response.

The flakes began on Thursday, snow tossed gently into our faces as I thought, “What, is this all?”

Friday the storm arrived, bringing a stinging wind that huffed and puffed and threatened to blow me off my feet as a grey black sky dumped tons of snow on the city, hour after hour and temperatures dropped to -10.

Forced to retreat inside – or rather, happily retreating inside, I watched life continue from my window. The postman came, dogs were walked and children fetched from school, albeit by sled.

Elsewhere in the city cars crashed, trains ran late and visibility was zero, Helsinki’s denizens stood at stops and stations hoping for the best.

Then it was over, the clouds cleared, the ploughs came and cleared our streets, we looked around and asked, “Isn’t it beautiful.” 

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