The view from my study window.

Our snow-covered house.

I am not a brave driver any more, so I emailed my Head of Department and Head of Curriculm area and said I was cancelling the afternoon class and possibly the evening class too -- unless a miracle happened and the snow all vanished.

A number of phone calls later, I had the day unexpectedly free.

Venturing out later, I found that the sheep seemed resigned to the bad weather. The farmer had made sure that they were well supplied with feed.

Fleece is not actually as white as snow.

Happy well fed sheep.

The weather remained uncertain with occasional sunny intervals when the sun managed to peep between the dark and lowering clouds. I pottered along, alternating brisk walking with loitering by the hedges and walls as I took various photos.

There are distinct signs of spring though, showers of pale catkins against dark boughs and the brightness of snow.

Also the gorse is in bloom. There is apparently a Welsh saying on the lines of "kissing is in season when the gorse is in bloom". Fortunately for lovers in Wales, there is scarcely a month when it isn't flowering. I tried sniffing the flowers, but it must be too cold for the wonderful scent of coconut they give off on warmer days.

Walking briskly back, my eye was caught by a round cushion of moss, capped with a crust of snow, like a green iced bun. Looking closely at the florets, the drops of melted snow glittered like diamonds.

No miracle occurred, so I phoned the students to cancel the evening class, only to find that the school had been closed all day. I couldn't have run the class even if I'd wanted to.