Tense

2 pm: just a mile or two up the road is tense, crowded poverty. Same shops, same buses, people about the same daily business - and a very different atmosphere.

Hunched

1.05 pm: the fine, sleety snow is visible only in the hunched, hunted posture of each passer by.

Fierce

2.30 pm: the wind is like a thousand tiny knives - not strong, but fierce and sharp and spiteful.

Bellowing

12.20 pm: in the park full of resoundingly bare trees, a single shock of billowing, bellowing blossom.

Imposed

2 pm: an old-fashioned Sunday imposed but once a year; suburban streets are empty, almost silent, restless.

Felt

11 am: the long-absent sunshine comes and goes; just a few minutes, seconds even, at a time - rarely has it felt more precious.

Warm

1 pm: the warm scent of white hyacinths, not quite snuffed out by chilled and stagnant air.