"The land itself was covered in the most beautiful snow Sue Owens had ever seen. In all her nine years, the snow had never been as thick, plush, and enveloping as it was now - making the streets look miniature and the land sleepy. It was the kind of landscape artists hungered for. It rounded the corners of things, bent the edges, turned everything into a world virgin and unknown."
Photos taken near Kimberworth, South Yorkshire (supplied by my friend Cheryl)
Robert Frost once wrote this:
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here,
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
These woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Thanks, Cheryl, for these lovely pictures!
And have a Happy Saturday, all!