I haven’t been showing up much lately on social media or on the blog in these first weeks of 2018 (why? Well, I’ve found that the less online time the less stress I have, so I’m just embracing the offline. Or real life, some might say).

But — very quickly — I wanted to share with you some snaps from this week’s snowy Scotland.

These past few days, my location has changed — I’ve been on a training course in Edinburgh’s city centre. Which — when it snowed heavily overnight on Tuesday — meant that I abandoned the slow, rush-hour bus in favour of a slippy stroll into town with my camera for company.

Edinburgh is (arguably) one of the prettiest sprawls in Scotland, with its attractive contradictions of medieval castle, Georgian townhouses, volcanic crags and pruned parks.

Yet in my two years living in Edinburgh, I’d never once experienced the city in winter wonderland mode. Sure, I’d seen a dusting of snow atop Arthur’s Seat; the glittering of frost on the grass; and the stereotypical east coast haar but I had never encountered thick, blizzard, blanket-like snow.

We watched the rain of sturdy flakes fall on the road as midnight approached and — when we woke on Wednesday — it was still there.

So, en route to my course, I stopped at shutter-points along Princes Street: the east entrance to the Gardens where the lawns in front of the Scott Monument where all white; across to Lloyds Bank where the trio of Scottish and British flags stood straight; the middle entrance to the gardens where the Castle appeared fully on the horizon and finally — by St Cuthberts Kirk — a streetlamp-lined lane through capped gravestones.

I know we shouldn’t say the C word in January, but it truly was like something from a Christmas card! Weather gods, pretty please, send some more our way?