This evening, crossing Scotts Road, heading to Borders for a pre-midnight-movie coffee with Ren, it snowed. Sure, it was snowing tiny bits of plastic, or whatever it is fake snow is made of, and it was all spewing out of some wooden contraption set up at one corner of the junction, said wooden contraption being topped with three rotund plastic Santas, but there was something lovely about it nonetheless, the bits of plastic snow floating down the street, glinting in the traffic lights.