More on the snow

Despite all the complaints about the snow, I witnessed a very encouraging example of good neighbourliness in the street where I live; two people who live further down cleared the pavement of snow along one side of the road, from one end of the street to the other. They were helped by the young son of one them, who put a bag of grit on his sled, happily scattering it along the way.

There has been a lot of debate about what the Tory policy of the 'Big Society' might mean, but it strikes me this is a perfect example of it; an unrequested, altruistic act of practical help.

Freezing on the South Coast

Brrr. You come down from London to Brighton and expect it to be warmer than London. Normally it is: the South Downs shelter it from the worst of the weather from the North and especially the North East winds, and the coastal climate generally makes for milder days and nights too.

But not on Friday. The band of warm air descending, ironically, from the North, that ended the freeze elsewhere in the country had been held up somewhere in the Weald, so by the time my train reached Hayward's Heath, there were ominous signs of frost still hanging around in the late afternoon. Getting out at Brighton, it was distinctly frosty, and a quick check on the Met Office website revealed that it wasn't my imagination: the temperature - measured just down the coast in Shoreham - hadn't risen above freezing all day, and on Friday night fell to a really chilly -7.3C.

Interestingly, no-one seemed to have told a busy little squirrel any of that, who was up and early on Saturday doing whatever squirrels do. I thought they were supposed to hibernate, but apparently this is a common misunderstanding: both grey and red squirrels remain active throughout the winter, especially first thing in the morning when they have finished digesting their last meal and go looking for the next.

This one was certainly active on our garage roof, though quite what sort of food it thought it might have found there is anyone's guess. Still, it made for a more interesting and uplifting start to the day than listening to the latest grim news on the Credit crunch and from Gaza, both of which seem incapable of resolution at the moment.

Autumn to Winter

And there was I, looking out of the window and admiring the leaves in the Square turning an autumnal gold when we get news of an imminent cold snap, which will undoubtedly catapult us into feeling all wintry.

But at least at the moment it is cold and sunny, which is among my favourite weather: it's dry, so you can enjoy a brisk walk in the sunshine without getting all hot and sweaty in the process. And about time after after our drearily damp summer. Wonderful.

Which is more than can be said for the experience of those poor souls who went on the Original Mountain Marathon in the Lake District over the weekend. If you've not seen the news, this was a major mountain race with 2,500 competitors, which had to be called off for the first time in its 41-year history, because of appalling weather: over two inches of rain (nearly three in some parts) fell over the first day, along with fierce winds. Many streams became impassable, and hundreds spent the night in farms and other hastily improvised shelters, while others toughed it out, camping on the mountains.

Now, of course, there's lots of fuss about why it was allowed to go ahead with such a grim weather forecast looming. And yet, I'm not quite sure what all the noise is about. The competitors were all experienced and well equipped, and there are bound to be some casualties in an event on this scale in any case.

And besides, what do people expect in the Lake District in late October? Snow, sleet, hail, rain and wind strike me as par for the course, a comment echoed by some of the competitors. Just don't expect me to be entering any time soon...