The weather has been delightful. Yesterday it was sunshowery, and the town was ringed with rainbows, over the hills and the church and the petrol station. This morning it snowed, all the rooftops, the trees, the mountain, white within minutes. The girl from San Diego is thrilled. I was reminded of the last time I was exhilarated: on a walk at night last week, we paused at the top of Teapot Lane, as mummers performed under a great pink paper lantern, capering for a wee film. Snow-downy fields, the moon suspended low in an alley, music lifting from a fiddle above the preternaturally quiet town: magic.