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the worst and best of freezing fog

It’s been a heavy day. Not just because I overslept until 9am this morning, rather than being into the office and ready to work at that time, as I should be. No, it’s mainly to do with the weather. Every little gap of Hertfordshire has been clogged with grey other-worldly fog. Hardly any daylight has penetrated the deep curtains that greet you around every corner.

So I’m quite proud that against every hibernation instinct in my body, I ventured out tonight in my running tights, 6 tops (not even kidding) and ‘designer’ Isle of Jura headband (last year’s Christmas present from my inner-hebridian residing sister). It was mainly down to Marie actually, otherwise known as Colonel Colucci (!), who declared she was going, after I said I was only going to make the effort if she was.

She was.

So I went too.


Not much fun running with fingers of ice, even if it is with a pack of fellow Fairlands Valley Spartans. The air was so thick.  Like being on the moon or something. Okay maybe not quite that bad. But pretty close. The extra water droplets suspended in the air must diminish the oxygen available in each lung full of air. None of us could catch our breath.

You’re okay whilst you’re running. It’s actually quite nice to be out in the (very) fresh air. It’s only as you drive homeward-bound that you realise how cold it must be.  In my case, at that very point where I think: ‘that’s probably not a good idea’ as my finger, on auto-pilot, pulls the windscreen wash lever to activate the washer pump.

Nope. Not the best plan: the ‘anti-freeze’ windscreen spray sloshes out and the fluid freezes on contact with the sub-temperature glass. Whoops.  freezing fog

I’m not sure I’ve ever seen water transform into sheet ice so quickly. Some of it turns into crystals the size of sugar grains and the rest draws smooth skating rink patterns.  Quite pretty really. Just not ideal to see through.

The best thing about being out in freezing fog though, it was it does to your peripherals. When we get back to the school and into the bright yellow light of the drama hall, I turn to say something to Marie and am greeted by long long eyelashes, laiden with teeny tiny icicles. Definitely something I’ve never seen before but, without doubt, a look every Ice Queen should strive for (whether she has Turkish Delight or not).  Even Charlie who we’d managed to keep apace of during the session now has a frozen blonde quiff that Mr Frosty the 70s ice-drink-maker would be proud of.

Freezing fog: could be popular for Christmas. Only I’m wondering whether it’s teenage awkwardness can be justified by one or two beautiful specimens frosted quiff and icicle eyelash.


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