Always winter...

The White Witch has laid a terrible spell on Narnia; it is always winter and never Christmas. Accordingly, in Narnia, there is only darkness and cold without the joy and hope that Christmas brings into the dark land. She has placed some magic over the land that keeps Father Christmas out.

I once met the White Witch at a Reception (in the shape of Tilda Swinton) and had a delightful conversation. She is indeed visually striking and fiercely talented! If she will forgive the ungallantry - I would rather have met C S Lewis. To have been a fly on the wall at the informal gatherings of The Inklings - a group of half a dozen Oxford literary friends that included J R R Tolkein - would have been tremendous.

Lewis has always fascinated me with his writings, his philosophy, and what seems simply to be an honest, likeable tentative approach to life. The most well known part of his journey, of course, is his marriage to Joy Gresham, 17 years his junior, which only lasted four years until her death from bone cancer. The book he wrote, A Grief Observed, and the subsequent film, Shadowlands, I would not choose to read or watch again. Too deeply sad.

Anyway, too much digression. As you can see from my window this morning - this remarkable, unprecedented spell of pre-Christmas weather shows no sign of going away. The magic may be wearing a little thin!