The land upon the hill is white;

The land around me is frozen to the earth.

The green no longer visible,

For the whiteness hides the soft green blades.

Around me, ice crystals fall, fall;

Each small flake is a wonder of its own.

Each small flake is the key to a new world,

A world whiter than the heavens above.

The air is frozen, along with the land,

In the air, I sense more precipitation

That has yet to fall.

And so, hours to come before

The dark, quiet clouds to complete their rounds.

The Yuletide approaches,

The days darker,

The hours shorter.

And so, with the earth,

Its inhabitants fall into a deep slumber,

Awaiting the breaking rays of the vernal season

To melt away this frozen wonderland.