The snow fell slowly; soft and white.
Building up on freezing ground.
It didn't stop through day or night.
Hiding all and muffling sound.
Next day it stopped; the sun shone bright.
Boys and girls came out to play.
A friendly game - a snowball fight.
Making snowmen, what a day!
At first one floundered through the snow.
But, in time, the snow packed hard.
And then on sledges see them go!
Legs behind and hands on guard.
In time the snow plough cleared the roads.
With a thaw the trees lost snow.
And house roofs lost their heavy loads.
Bits of grass began to show.
But in the hills, snow cover stayed
In gullies, where the drifts were deep.
North facing slopes were in the shade.
With hidden clefts and very steep.
With spikey crampons on my boots
And ice axes in my hands.
I've made my way up many routes.
In many wild and rocky lands.
In the Nevis hut I once did stay.
A climbing book as my guide
Up Tower Ridge I made my way,
Tower Gap I've stood astride.
Crampons needed for verglas ice
Coating all Aonach Eagach
Rocky scrabbling, no snow - not nice.
In Glencoe the ice was black.
Beside Llyn Glaslyn on the track
Snowdon's peak is clearly seen
Above a cliff face with a crack.
In the snow, this way I've been.
A band of snow leads to the right
Leading to a narrow slit.
The gully left soon gains more height.
One hard move, then the summit.
A cornice forms on a ridge's lee.
But it's unstable and may fall
As an avalanche like a stormy sea.
Sweeping all away - a snowy wall.
A pair of poles, a pair of skis.
Another way to feel the snow.
A snow-plough vee is just a breeze.
Not so a double Christie though!