I don't know exactly how it happened, but apparently snow has changed since I was little. Back then, it was an enchanting substance - when snow fell, a breathless hush swept across the land, the gently drifting crystals would settle softly and transform the countryside into another world - an endless dreamscape of dazzling possibilities. On stepping outside, my skin would tingle, my cheeks would flush, and my breath would hang before me in the air like a tiny cloud of life. It was a time for losing my feet beneath a quilt of pure white, for laboriously constructing misshapen snowmen, and subsequently for stealthily removing items of clothing from my parents' wardrobe in order to decorate my constructions. I remember standing back to admire my sculptures, immensely proud of the figures I had built, like some elemental god, using weather as my medium. Well... weather, twigs, a few vegetables and various pieces of knitwear - which would inevetably be discovered a few days later, forlorn and damp, on the lawn. It was a time for sledging, travelling as fast as the wind down pale hillsides - the only time I have ever been excited at the prospect of approaching a bramble patch with such rapidity. It was a time to bravely slide across icy ponds, to pirouette across frozen surfaces - even if, admittedly, those pirouettes tended to be performed while I was in a sitting position. It was a time for snowballs to arc through the air, tightly packed spherical missiles speeding towards an unsuspecting target - or in my case, towards a spot quite some distance to the left of an unsuspecting target, because hand/eye coordination has never been my strong suit. It was a time for falling over into a sea of cold - sometimes by accident, but mostly in a premeditated and highly enjoyable collapse, usually ending up in a snowdrift. And when the cold became too much, there was a warm house nearby - a fireside by which to huddle, a bath to take away the aches and pains of the day, a bed in which to sink, in which to dream, and in which to wake, ready for more adventures in the winter wonderland outside.

But that was years ago - when I was still a youngling; not today's wise old man of 24. As I say - snow has changed. I know this, because the news keeps telling me so. Whenever I turn on my television, I am reliably informed by dapper gentlemen in dignified suits that snow is our enemy. Snow is a cunning and malicious adversary. Snow is EVIL.

Do you know what snow has been up to this week, for example? I shall tell you. Snow has been landing on our roads. That's right - it's on our roads; our actual roads which we actually use to actually drive our actual cars!! And it has been landing on our roads ON PURPOSE! How dare it! Who does it think it is? Needless to say, the dapper gentlemen in dignified suits are most unhappy with this outrageous behaviour, this upstart weather which conspires against our precious tarmac. Night after night they tell me, in their dapper, dignified manner, that this snow is the harbinger of CHAOS. There is CHAOS, they explain, on our roads, where at least 99% of cars are upside down. CHAOS as schools close - thousands of devastated children deprived of maths tests. CHAOS as train lines shut down, because, as we all know, trains are normally completely reliable. CHAOS as people fall over on icy patches and bump their bums on the pavement in a way which is CHAOTIC and NOT AT ALL HILARIOUS. There is so much CHAOS, the dapper gentlemen seem to say, that the end of the world seems inevetable. If you are foolish enough to mould a snowman from this new, EVIL snow, it will DEFINITELY, INDUPITABLY, WITHOUT A SHADOW OF A DOUBT come to life and gobble you up.

I am, of course, being facetious - I do understand that winter is a difficult season, that icy roads are dangerous, and that snow has a direct hand in numerous injuries and worse. Nevertheless, I cannot fathom the hysteria induced by the recent snowfalls; the seething messages on Facebook, filled with displeasure that the hated substance will not instantly melt away, are simply beyond my comprehension - perhaps because I'm not affected by any of the corresponding issues. The low temperatures are unlikely to give me anything more than a cold, I'm on no rush to get anywhere or do anything important - and even if I were, I can't drive, having given up on my lessons after I demolished the corner of the house while trying to park my dad's Land Rover. And that happened in the middle of summer - so really it's a blessing that I'm not trying to navigate slippery asphalt. Even so, it seems to me that much of the CHAOS caused by the current precipitation could be avoided with a little foresight and caution. Indeed - I have to add that, as far as I can tell, the government and various gritting companies have coped remarkably well with the situation; all the major routes along which I have been driven have been almost entirely clear of snow. Things could be a lot worse!

At any rate, it is a shame that all the joys of snow are being consumed by our consideration of the inconveniences it poses. If you're willing to give it a chance, get out there with some friends. Build a snow-fort. Slide down a hill. Have a snowball fight. Yes, you'll end up with various bits frozen and numb, but that's nothing central heating can't cure. If you do it right, you might just have a wonderful day. And don't worry - I ventured out into the snow myself today, just to check - just in case it was EVIL. I jumped up and down in it. I threw some of it at a tree. I fell over in it on several occasions. I even tasted a bit - but not the yellow bit, obviously. And it certainly didn't taste of EVIL.

It tasted of MAGIC.

Merry Christmas.