I have spent a little time of late getting to grips with Frankenstein, both the literary version by Mary Shelley and the Kenneth Branagh film. 

The wild landscapes described by Shelley are extremely vivid; majestic almost in their appointment.  One can almost see the craggy waves in the sea of ice in Shelley's novel and feel the same sense of peace looking out on that bleak scene.

Exotic landscapes are a feature of Gothic literature but the scenes depicted by Shelley are not so far removed from those witnessed in the UK over the past few weeks - with yet more snow due in days to come.

The problem with snow in here in the UK is that we're simply not used to it.  We are rarely prepared for the inconvenience and we don't like the cold or slush, much less driving in icy conditions.  I think if it snows again this year, I'll be snuggling up in front of the fire with a book and a mug of tea and staying there until it melts.

I honestly cannot wait until spring has sprung!