Inside the Snow Dome

Living in Finland can sometimes be like living inside on of those snow domes that tourists buy as souvenirs, usually of a place that doesn't have snow.

One moment, it's sunny with blue skies and you go to take your jacket off and then you start to feel a little wet on the nose, and something has just landed on your glasses and realise it's snowing.

I like this snow; it falls slowly, seductively, hypnotically like a scene in slow motion. The snowflakes dance on their way down, knowing it's not cold enough for them to settle and so making the most of their descent.

Yesterday evening however, many enjoyed a brief settling. They coated one side of the branches like a delicately iced cake. They powdered the leaves on the trees and floured the footpaths.

At times, the snow dome was turned upside down, and the snow fell in fury, before resuming its gentle fall. Gradually the flakes disappeared until you could point them out individually, "there's one - it's still snowing!" until these latecomers too ceased and the air was still, waiting for the dome to be turned over again.