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When I woke up this morning, it was snowing. Because I come from a country where it barely rains, let alone snows, I was inordinately excited. Up until moving to Cambridge, I think I'd seen real snow four times in my life: one freezing winter when we were driving from Canberra to Sydney and it began to snow just before Goulburn, the time in Canberra that everyone my age talks about ('I've seen snow once. You know, that one time it snowed, the year we were all three/four'), and maybe twice on my four ski trips to Thredbo or Perisher. So seeing snow falling softly in my back yard was quite a big deal. So I went a little crazy with the camera.

The sight that greeted me when I woke up.

Footprints in the snow.

Snow in the grass.

Snow on the mud and dead leaves.

Snow on the bench.

Snow on the wall.

Snow on the church roof.

Snow on a mossy roof.

Ducks in the Cam.

Snow on a log beside the Cam.

The sight that greeted me when I woke up.

Footprints in the snow.

Snow in the grass.

Snow on the mud and dead leaves.

Snow on the bench.

Snow on the wall.

Snow on the church roof.

Snow on a mossy roof.

Ducks in the Cam.

Snow on a log beside the Cam.