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?
Yep, like whipped cream peaks of wind-dolloped snow out there.
I agree. It snowed here briefly, and while we didn’t have the pure, white blanket effect as you did, watching the fluffy clusters of flakes floating down, it almost felt like I was watching a magical spell unfold.
I prefer that actually. That way, you get the magic of the first snowfall, and then the magic of the snow collecting on the ground.
This is, if the snow eventually collects.