Snowmography

Growing up in Devon, snow was something of a rarity. We were a spit away from the so-called English Riviera, famous for its palm-loving maritime climate of mild, mild, endlessly mild weather. I remember watching the news footage from elsewhere with envy: closed schools, snowmen, and sledging. Bah. Not fair.

Then on New Year's eve 1981 it snowed good and proper. We raced home from my grandmother's and just in time. We were cut off by seven foot drifts. Clear skies and a freeze followed, turning our our local sledging hill into a terrifying bobsleigh run. The sun shone and I was mesmerised by the ultraviolet beauty of a familiar world made strange. We went for long walks and sunk to our knees through soft ice.

Perhaps that's why despite the warnings of doom and danger I still get a childish thrill when it starts to snow. We went out several times during this latest freeze, and I had fun with our new Diana Mini lomography camera. (I now have my own lomohome where you can check out photos as I upload them.) I love the dreaminess of the pictures it takes.

It allows you to make multiple exposures, always unpredictable.

And at night you can do long exposures, holding the shutter open as long as you dare.

I guess this is just my adult way of making snowmen. They last longer too. Last night it rained and today all the snow is gone.