A pine tree standeth lonelyIn the North on an upland bare;It standeth whitely shroudedWith snow, and sleepeth there.It dreameth of a Palm treeWhich far in the East alone,In the mournful silence standethOn its ridge of burning stone.
Heinrich Heine, German poet (1797–1856)
Our first snowstorm of the season started blowing during dinner last evening and dropped so much white stuff that the Time Traveller had to shovel a path to his car. Since then snow continued to accumulate upon itself until morning. We awoke to a quiet, white world blanketed in a foot-thick layer of frozen precipitation.
It's a beautiful sight but it has to be dealt with so right after breakfast, Dad and I headed out to clear the driveways and sidewalks of our elderly neighbours; Dad with a snowblower and me with a shovel. Three hours later we returned home for a warming cup of coffee and some Christmas treats, after which I collapsed into a sound sleep, as deep and as silent as the snowbanks we had created. Welcome wintertime to Ontario!