See amid the Winter snow...

There's something that happens a couple of times a year, if we're lucky. At worst, it sticks for barely an hour before melting or turning to slush. At best, it is, as the carol goes, deep and crisp and even. It's the alignment of weather fronts in such a way that water vapour, rather than falling as rain, forms the intricate crystalline structures we all love - snowflakes - and lands as snow.

I love snow as much as any normal fun-loving human. But its attraction is not just that it lets you throw yourself down a hillside at great speed or lob hard clods of compacted snow at each other.

It fundamentally forces us to see the world in a different way. The Winter wonderland is a largely colourless landscape, but that is not to say it is not improved by the polarity of black and white. As only traces of colour remain, these do not fade to insignificance but stand stark against the newspaper print world.

Woodland is surely the best place to admire the beauty of snow. Twisting branches, twigs and last season's fruit are outlined, masked, shaded out, softened and illuminated, all at once, as slender white filaments and heavier braids and trims bear down on them.

Under a dusting of snow, the familiar is obscured. Landmarks are transmuted, revealing to us that there are other sides and other realities to objects we thought we knew.

In fact, snow often reveals as much as it hides. Take a look at a hillside under snow, and what is masked throughout the rest of the year by tussocky grass - patterns of ancient land use, old tracks, historic field boundaries - becomes visible.

But it's not just ancient history that snow reveals. Snow holds, in suspended animation, the marks of all events from the time it first covers the world in white, till the moment the bulk melts. Animal tracks that only a trained eye would usually be able to trace are captured in the snow as footprints; the compaction of walking boots, sledges, and cars across the Winter world is clear to see, too.

But what is more important is that snow gets people outside in a way that British weather, for the remaining 364 days a year, generally does not. The white stuff is probably nature's best toy: it makes the world a playground for children and adults who aren't usually fussed about the outdoors, who wouldn't usually dream of running through a field or playing in the street. And for those who love to get out anyway, snow makes things even better.

We were all dreaming of a White Christmas - and this year, only a day or two late, we actually have one. Merry Christmas all!