Like most of southern England, we had a fair bit of snow last week. Nothing particularly remarkable about that; the town’s altitude means we get at least a flurry most winters.

Last year, the Beast from the East turned Shaftesbury into a frozen wasteland. It was horrible. The easterly wind located every gap in the floorboards, every nook and every cranny, and we woke up to find our windows had been replaced with frosted glass of the type you find in bathrooms.

Last week’s weather was altogether more delightful. Thursday and Friday’s gentle but continuous snowfall was followed by one of the sunniest winter weekends I can remember. The clear, bright light brought out what seemed like the entire town to crunch along Park Walk, Shaftesbury’s traffic-free promenade, the sweeping views accentuated by the cerulean sky and monochrome palette of snow-covered fields. With the snow reflecting the sun’s rays, the town took on a distinctly alpine vibe. It was spirit lifting indeed to buy a takeaway hot chocolate and bask in the warmth for a wee while.

The charm of Shaftesbury in the snow was not lost on the nation’s press and photographers from both Reuters and the Press Association were seen at the top of Gold Hill over the weekend. One managed to capture a fearless girl sledging down the ice-packed slope, a slightly reckless pursuit enjoyed by a surprising number of Shastonians. I’m sure I’ll never be able to call myself a proper local until I’ve accomplished this particular challenge.

Maybe next year.