Turning over and over in the sky, length after length of whiteness unwound over the earth and shrouded it. The blizzard was alone in the world; it had no rival.

When he climbed down from the window sill Yura’s first impulse was to dress, run outside, and start doing something.

—Doctor Zhivago

When one looks outside their window and sees this, this blanket of purity, what else can one feel but serenity, contentment, and hope?