Let it snow, let it snow, please let it snow?

As I write this there is no snow on the ground in Moscow. This is not what I signed up for. I was promised snow, troika rides, fur hats and the shimmering bright glow of fresh powder. There is no snow.

Maybe I’m being a bit dramatic. If I look carefully, I can find a few patches left from the snow fall a couple of weeks ago… amorphous grey white lumps relegated to awkward corners. The snow equivalent of the last drunk too tired to leave the party. Still, I expected more than this. I wanted the full cliché! These sad remnants of snow just aren’t good enough.

Initially I was reluctant to deal with the sliding temperatures. After five years in Malaysia, wearing closed toe shoes felt weird. A walk one morning down Arbat soon solved that; I realised that there was literally no-one else in Moscow not wearing proper shoes and I had to give in and buy some. And actually wear them. Since then I’ve bought coats, scarves, gloves, a snood (it was a weak moment; I apologise) and several pairs of boots, including some with pop-out spikes. I’m like a very practical James Bond villain (Rosa Kleb, or should I say bread?) (I made a Russian joke! This is awesome!). I’m ready for the snow but with the exception of last week’s light scattering, there is nothing.

I want to see this city in a different way. We managed to arrive just as the summer was ending; light nights, warm days, terraces open and busy. I know how this city will be in the summer, low golden light and dusty shadows. I definitely see how it is in this doldrums of the winter – relentlessly grey, hunched against the wind, with that dramatic sky always pressing down. And yes I know, it’s not even cold yet.

But I’d like to see it with snow. So thick it comes up to your knees. Trees bowing under the weight. I want to see the statues and sculptures have their edges and hollows highlighted with white. I want to take my own photo of St Basil’s with snow – come on weather, I have these things to tick off my list. I want to build a snowman!

The distance from from our experience in Malaysia is great, and not just in miles. To have seasons again is a novelty for our daughter, who until recently had never walked through frost before, tried ice skating, or even wore more than one layer of clothing for school (unless the aircon was turned up high that day). I’ve had to explain why it gets dark in the middle of the afternoon and why it seems to be night when we go to school; why old ladies like to yell at her to keep her hat on, and we’ve had some serious fun catching autumn leaves as they fell from the park opposite our house. In Malaysia it was hot, sometimes rainy, sometime polluted, but basically the same – including sunrise and sunset – every day. We are all learning to adjust, to live with the changes of seasons again. This is part of the adventure.

I’m told that for the last few years the typical Moscow winter has been just like this. Cold, yes, but not much snow. Just a little, then grey ice/slush/mud, then nothing, just grey for a couple of weeks. I really hope that this changes. It doesn’t need to be three weeks of -30 degrees Celsius, but something that gives us the Russia we see in films and read about in books. I want the drama. I also want to be able to use the pop-out spikes on my new boots for a reason, other than showing my mother-in-law on Skype.

So I sit, and wait, and for the first time in five years the weather apps on my phone are useful. I have a friend in Sakhalin whose Facebook feed is full of icicles and snow, and I am envious! I know that I won’t always feel this way, but for now, please, let it snow?