I really knew winter was here when I stepped out of the house one day and the ground was covered in frost. Sure, Australia sees frost, so the shimmering swards of grass on Hatfield Mead were not a surprise. What was a surprise however were the frosted sidewalks, which I had to negotiate so very carefully for about 500 meters. Every drop of water on a surface was frozen - I had certainly never seen frosted concrete and tar before. I haven’t seen it since either, so thankfully I have not needed ice-skates to get to the bus again. As I turn out of Hatfield Mead each morning to go to the bus, I look out across Morden Park, and on a clear day it is a sight that never fails to remind me I am in another country. The bare branched trees are many-masted ships ghosting above the mist that obscures their trunks and the grass completely veiled in silver frost. I now understand what crystal-clear air is about ... nothing else really describes the biting crispness of the atmosphere on a cloudless da...