We've had some weather...so what have we learnt?

Britain is so meteorologically diverse, so commenting on the wintry spell Norfolk has recently received I know may not be the most all-encompassing of blog posts. Nevertheless, I think it's fair to say that the whole country has experienced or is currently experiencing a noticeable plummet in temperatures; some have received a modest dusting of snow and other areas have been more severely affected. Norfolk is (I cross my fingers) emerging from this wintry stage and entering what I hope to be a fresh Spring, and snow is slowly but surely melting away to release Mum's lawn from it's icy imprisonment. As this ablation continues, the question remains: what have we learnt from this spell of British Weather?

After coming back from Alaska, first and foremost, I've learnt that Britain's approach to winter is one of the aspects that separates these two places far apart. In Alaska, granted, winter-time is almost engrained into society. It is set as hard as ice into routine, and the joys of such an austere season have become exploited: ice-skating championships, mountain-side skiing and even some of the work I was doing out there on frozen lakes. The winter is almost as certain as taxes in this regard, and I suppose after hundreds of years of temperatures regularly below minus 20 degrees C, you ought to expect the state to cope 'reasonably' well.

Britain, I realise, doesn't clench on to such wintry certainty; in fact, recent years have shown there is very little we can foresee when it comes to the weather. Having said that, when the island gets a beating by our characteristic mix of atmospheric forces, it is as if we have hardly experienced anything like it before. The truth is, though, we have. And worse! The winter of 1947, or the Great Freeze of 1963, are just two instances of weather events which did battle against the most hardy of men. Over the week, the tumult that has spread, like a snow cloud itself, over the radio airwaves as a result of "a few cm of snow" here and "minus 13 degrees C" there has inspired those who bore witness to those two skin-piercing winters to call in and share their experiences. It's only after listening to these accounts that modern life seems so feeble and frail.

One of the more prolific aspects of this year's event has been an uproar over the opening or closing of schools and colleges; it seems whatever decision a principal or headteacher makes is always the least favourable. But surely, now is the time to harness the bounty of technological enhancements that have become part of daily routine and apply them for education. Surely a lesson can take place online with the use of webcam and microphone? Surely learning can be sustained outside of the classroom? Apart from Jack Frost biting at my nose, this is the issue that's been biting me ever since Britain received this recent bout of snow. Education pauses like it's controlled by a television remote, and with many schools and colleges in my county selecting to introduce exams earlier (like, January) I find it very difficult to comprehend that in times when the class is immobilised and house-bound, that teaching cannot continue.

This has not been the first series of snow flurries to meet the county, and it won't be the last, but maybe this single event might inspire a fresh look at just how to use weather to our advantage. No-one can control what falls from the heavens, but we can adapt our own individual lifestyles to accommodate what eventually does. Whatever happened to "we'll wear the weather, whatever the weather?"