by Hector Mackenzie
SHEEPISHLY waiting in line to pay for the plastic novelty fish tank turtle my daughter had begged me to buy, a familiar sight greeted my eye.
The Petsmart supermarket up at the retail park in Inverness has huge doors which, more often than not, are thrown open whatever the weather.
I've always assumed that's something to do with the acculumated pong generated by the animals and foodstuff inside. I always make a point, when stocking up on flakes or filters for our sole pet, Daffy the goldfish, of being nice to the shivering checkout staff caught in the draught. At this point, though, I was just fairly keen on getting out of there without anyone noticing me or my rather pointless £2.99 purchase.
However the thought was put on hold as I clocked the scene outside. Silent snowflakes illuminated by the glow of street lights outside conjured a magical image a bit like that scene in White Christmas where they throw open the doors of the barn to see snow falling, right on cue.
My daughter was literally dancing with delight next to me, ruining any chance whatsoever that we were going to get out unnoticed. Still, it was a lovely moment in which to revel in the childish wonder of it all.
The spell was soon broken by a voice behind me in the queue. "Oh no! Would you look at that? I can't believe it! I can't stand this weather. I hate it."
And there we have it. Not everyone's thrilled by the return of the snow, it turns out.
Has it really been a year since we were last brushing the stuff from our car windscreens and moaning about the lack of gritters on the roads? No, it's been less than that.
But a quick glance back at last year's Ross-shire Journal uncovers the following front page headline from almost a year to the day: "Ross battles to cope with ferocious winter blast".
The story is accompanied by one of those a picture-worth-a-thousand-words sort of photographs of a state of the art Mercedes gritter lying on its side out Nigg Hill way. Two buses and an HGV were amongst the other casualties on the roads back then.
So why does it always seem to come as a surprise? We live in the Highlands, not a million miles away from one of the UK's major skiing centres. Our weather has a tendency to take a turn for the worse in winter. Inevitably the radio phone call-ins had already turned to the weather with familiar complaints being dusted down once again.
Transport Minister Keith Brown was wheeled out for a couple of minutes, disappearing before the first complaint about the lack of gritters on the roads.
I suspect his child-like enthusiasm about snow has long since vanished.
The downside to all of this, of course, is the major inconvenience a spot of ice and snow can cause. It's all very well invoking the blitz spirit until you find yourself flat on your back after taking a tumble on black ice.
That's what happened to my own wee boy on Sunday. There were tears but two minutes later he was back on form, talking about snowballs and snowmen. Kids, eh?
Still, I couldn't help thinking that if it was a pensioner hitting the same patch of ice, they wouldn't have got up quite so quickly.
I'd have been a bit sluggish myself, truth be told.
When you see Premier League footballers injuring themselves falling over blades of grass, it's no stretch of the imagination to see what an unexpected fall could do to a mere mortal.
The lesson? Mind how you go, watch out for your neighbour and, if you can, tap into your inner child.
