All last night and most of today a fine drizzle of snow has begun to dress the trees. The tyres have been muffled, the usual background rumble of the lorries en route to and from Italy can barely be heard. Everything becomes still when it snows. The flakes in the air seem to baffle sound. We knew it was going to snow today, in this valley almost everyone lives by the weather. I used to live in London and by comparison we live in pre-industrial connection with the elements. In London the seasons went past like window dressing, here Chamoniards greet each other with weather forecasts. "It is going to snow 20 cms at 1800m on Friday" they said. They were right. After a long cold autumn, winter has finally arrived. People are making late changes, queueing up at garages to buy snow tyres and ski racks. When there is enough snow Grand Montets opens November for the weekends. It will be interesting to see if the snow has come early enough for November this year. To put this day in a broader context; today the soccer legend George Best passed away as a result of a lifetime of alcohol abuse while, with a rare sense of irony, the UK government introduced 24 hour drinking. It has indeed been a grey day; the news has been grey, the landscape has turned grey, the fields and trees are shades of grey. This is the the kind of day that initiates that little bubble of excitement, the growing anticipation. The pistes, the powder and the very steep ice beckon.