The Battle of the Giants or Armageddon; Storm Emma meets the Beast from the East; you'd be forgiven for thinking the media has been reporting on a wrestling match rather than the weather. Here in the rural hinterlands of North Yorkshire we've been bunkering down, enthralled by stories of woe and fortitude from life in the Northern hills where I grew up or else from daily commuters.
Clearly too many people now live further from their place of work than ever before and with the thousands of lorries that blight our roads, working journeys and snow blizzards were never going to be a joyful mix for drivers.
On Planet Retirement, however, our only test this week has been seeing if Mister E can actually keep the bird feeders topped up and a path clear to the gate on the off chance that the postman would make his regular visit. Besieged by feathered friends, we've been nurturing not only our regular callers but also their extended families and a few historic visitors who all decided it was once again time to pay us a call. So for us the snow has actually brought with it the delight of a flock of fieldfares, thrushes, pied wagtails and a tree creeper as well as the ever faithful tits, robins, sparrows, blackbirds, chaffinches, doves and woodpeckers. Best of all I've found the perfectly concealed spot to photograph them, albeit from behind a window that now needs a clean on the outside.
Even in the most comfortable of hides a birdwatcher can get bored though, not least when deprived of her regular trips to the gym. Shovelling snow may burn but it just doesn't hit the pulse rate in the same way as a workout and certainly does very little for stiff joints crying out for a good old Pilates stretch. So yes, it may now be March but Mister E has reunited my car with its winter tyres and I can once again drive up the hill and more importantly stop when I touch the brake; next winter they will go on in October.