"By the time they reached the camp it was snowing and the flakes were dropping diagonally through the pines."
If I could paint and or draw, this is one of the things I would draw/paint. However, I can't do either with any discernible talent. Everything I try to draw/paint turns into abstract modern art because I suck.
Anyway.
It's a beautiful description of one of my favorite things. I love watching snow fall. It's almost as cool as watching fire burn.
I don't remember when it was, except for it was winter, but it was snowing steadily throughout the day. Being bored, my sister and I decided to go exploring in the woods.
About half a mile behind our house is a creek. My sister and I trudged through snowy woods to the creek and climbed around the banks and walked through the water.
We must have nailed our anti-snow measures if we were walking through the water. The only sounds were us crunching through snow, splashing through water and twigs snapping. The only other sound was the extreme quiet of falling snow.
We hiked for what seemed like hours and miles. Finally, we sensed that we had gone far enough and were ready to head back. We knew that somewhere to the right there were roads, but we had no idea where.
So we trudged along until we thought we saw a shape through the falling snow. It looked like a right angle between the trees. We both thought we saw it but weren't sure what it was.
My sister and I have eyes like hawks. The rest of our family are as blind as sonar-less bats. We trudged off towards the shape. It turned out to be the corner of a roof.
We knew where we were then and we followed the neighborhood roads home.
Basically, purple-gray winter days consumed by snow are the bees knees.
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