On that first day, snow fell and fell.
Lorries ground to a halt on the roads, and their drivers took shelter in schools and village halls across the country. A blizzard blew all around, witnessing my arrival.
Later, she held me up, wrapped in a hospital blanket, little knitted cap on my head, held me up to the single pane of glass. Outside, down on the snow covered lawn, two small boys in long coats and balaclavas raised their small white faces to the figure at the first floor window. Gathering handfuls of snow, they pressed them together. Raised their arms and threw balls of snow towards the glass until their father sat them on the sledge and pulled them home.
She waved after them until they turned the corner, then lay back down in her hospital bed, the bassinet beside her; and inside, swadled tight, a blizzard baby, fierce and wild, now sleeping like a kitten.