Walking through a snow shower in West Sussex.

.

Through garden into Sandgate Wood,

Gleaming white, all around.

'midst the magic virgin snow I stood,

Captivated and spellbound.

Emerging into Sandgate Lane,

Turning by the twitten.

Watch as a young pup jumps in vain,

Snapping at flakes, like a kitten.

On to the Warren's swathes of heather,

Amidst the towering pines.

Dusted in flakes, light as a feather,

The snow inexorably binds.

'The Green' is a great sea of white,

My prints lead to the gate.

Heather Way in snow is a sheer delight,

Then shops to fill my plate.

With food tucked in my haversack,

I turn and make for home.

With stunning views on all paths back,

To crumpets and hot scone.

Don Filliston.