30th December 1942
Up at 7, to see a wild, white, world, snowflakes beating and whirling against the window, and little drifts all along the window-sills. The trees and hedges were black as charcoal, and great ragged clouds raced overhead, with the moon peeping through them.
Got my breakfast, and walked up to the village to catch the bus. Cycling was impossible, as there were drifts a foot deep on the roads. Soon after 8 the clouds drifted away, and the golden dawn appeared in the east. Every field was a vast untrodden white carpet, and the magic of the snow had changed the cheap, shoddy little cottages in the village into beauty, through which a few labourers moved silently to their work. Bus was very late, and came along slowly, throwing up fountains of loose snow. The sun appeared, and the moon paled in a dense blue sky. Very cold north wind, but everything seemed better and brisker by this sudden change. Got through a good deal of work today.
Rushed home to tea this afternoon, and then managed to get to Lawford by 6, when it was still barely dark. The longest nights are behind us now.
Writing all evening.