A Winter Tale

The farther the carriage progressed from London, the less inclined Lieutenant Randall felt like looking out the windows. He was glad to be home, but he could not deny that the weather was somewhat of a disappointment.

He had been serving as third lieutenant aboard a frigate that had been stationed in the Caribbean, and which had now been ordered back to England. Randall had been prepared for an English winter, yet after spending several years in such a warm climate, he was still taken rather aback by the stinging cold of the air. He would have been willing to abide that, provided there had been some snow to accompany it. Randall had always been fond of snow as a child, and even though that fondness had diminished, the sight of a snowy landscape never failed to make him smile. But sadly, when their ship docked in London, there was no snow, only frigid temperatures and dull grey skies.

With his good mood now declining, Randall had glumly climbed into his carriage and began the long journey to his family home. It was a sojourn which would take two days, and he was not looking forward to having to stare out at the barren winter landscape the entire time. He chastized himself for growing so accustomed to the bright, colourful scenery of the Caribbean. Yet he had been ready to face the harshness of winter--as long as there was snow. It was the lack of that which was truly depressing him.

For the beginning of the trip, he glanced out the windows occasionally. But as the time passed, Randall grew so dispondent and so disinterested with the stark scenes outside that he eventually fell asleep. He was startled awake sometime later by his driver, who announced that they had reached the inn where they would stop and rest for the night. Reluctantly, Randall put on his hat and prepared to face the dreariness outside.

What a pleasant suprise he had then, when he stepped from the carriage and found himself standing ankle-deep in snow. It seemed the snow had just not made it down to London yet. But here, it had blanketed the countryside, the whiteness standing out against the darkness of the sky. The scene was so lovely, so peaceful that Randall felt his melancholy mood lift at once, and he smiled as he stared up the still-falling flakes. While his driver busied himself with the luggage, Randall simply stood there, watching the snow and savoring the moment. And in that moment, he found that, finally, he was quite happy to be back.

***

My entry for the Winter Tales contest over at .

Randall is wearing a Royal Navy lieutenant's uniform and boat cloak from around 1800.

Story, character and concept (c) me