I’d hoped that a few lines a day wouldn’t be too much trouble. At least I’ve managed a photo a day so far.
A warmer day, for all the difference it makes when routine and law dictate every movement.
The last day of the cold they say, and the snow has almost gone. Another weekend of little to do and not enough time to do it in.
Cold as ice and slippery as… ice.
A day so bitterly cold that the trains shrank. Reduced carriages meant reduced social distance, but at least everyone seemed to be wearing their masks.