You could hear it before you could see it. Over the slush of cars in the snow there was a high-pitched chattering, like excited birds. The sound felt distant—not just because it had traveled hundreds of meters and through the Hampstead Heath tree line, but because I hadn’t heard it for a long time. It was the sound of a crowd.
I haven’t been in a group of more than six people since February 2020, and the idea made me nervous. So when we recently woke to a blanket of snow—something that happens once a year in London, at most—I wanted to beat the rush. But by 10:30 a.m. there were hundreds of people atop Parliament Hill, one of the highest points in the city, trying to balance the best routes for sled speed with social distancing. My wife and I stood at the bottom of the run, watching the faces of kids (and the occasional adult) as they gleefully rushed down the slope. In another year, I’d have been at the top with a makeshift snowboard myself, but this time it was enough just to see others acting normal. We stood for as long as our icy feet could stand, keeping our hands warm in each other’s before heading home.
On the walk back we passed one of our favorite pubs, lit up like a beacon to attract the passing trade with takeaway hot drinks and sandwiches. The Bull & Last closed for renovations in 2019 and, though it hasn’t opened fully since, it looked as warm and inviting as ever. By the time it does open its doors again I’ll have moved away. I made a quick mental note to come back one year, to bring a sled and warmer shoes, and make the most of not having to pretend things are normal.
Words + Photoby Jonny Garrett