Storm Christoff has finally arrived in North East Wales. Even though our village clings 500+ feet above sea-level on the side of a mountain, there is still another 300+ feet above us and, with the fields still sodden from snow-melt, the only place the water is going is straight down the mountain.

This is the view from my bedroom window, fortunately our house is on a small incline which means it rushes past – bypassing the drain just 6 feet further along to the left – and races on down to what are still called the ‘new’ houses, which were built at least twenty-years ago and are below the level of the road.

I’ve been writing about the The Big Freeze of 1962-1963 for my Creative Non-fiction module. I’ve written about how isolated our then house was (I was six), though it is only a mile and a half (higher up) from where I am now. We had ‘proper’ winters then. Snow and ice, not this constant rain for weeks on end and all these storms coming in.

For anyone too young to have experienced the winter of 1962-63, this shows much of what went on throughout Britain (not much mention of Wales though, and none of North Wales).

And, as of 8.30 pm, it is snowing! Heatwave tomorrow then?