Winton: slushy pavements

Image: © Chris Downer Taken: 3 Feb 2009

The big freeze of the last couple of days is gradually turning into the slow thaw. The considerable snow is starting to melt as fresh falls turn into hail and sleet. It is about 9 o’clock and there is hardly anyone about – fortunately, because you are deploying a peculiar gait which is difficult to achieve and difficult to describe. Each footstep creates a squelchy sound and an imprint behind. The newly melted water creates a constant trickling sound as it flows into drains – this and soft thuds from small lumps of semi-thawed snow falling from roofs and cars are the only sounds that join one’s footsteps in breaking the silence: it brings to my mind the atmosphere of being in an ill-lit cave. The texture of the slush on the roads is similar to that of the road surface, so when you step out to cross the road you sink half an inch lower than you thought you would. This is not a night for wearing those jeans that are really just that ½ inch too long for you, and when a car approaches you give it a wide berth lest you get sprinkled with cold, muddy sleet. All that to pop out to buy the paper.

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