Friday February 24th 1933

Colder. It has snowed at intervals now for over a week, it seems. This evening, the snow changed to a fierce blizzard which raged all night.

Struggled to the post office, and then, feeling the call of the red gods, I went up the hill. Wearing a cape over my coat and an old hat. Up Motherby Hill, whirling flakes and white silence. The Cathedral square was empty – except for snow. On the south side the racing, howling wind had cleared the ground of snow and piled it in drifts at the Minster front. Alone except for the battling elements. Walked right round the Cathedral and down Steep Hill. Back by Waterside. Found a cat, crying and frightened: brought it home under my cape.