"Our snow was not only shaken from white wash buckets down the sky,
it came shawling out of the ground and swam and drifted out of the arms and hands and bodies of the trees;
snow grew overnight on the roofs of the houses like a pure and grandfather moss, minutely -ivied the walls and settled on the postman,
opening the gate, like a dumb, numb thunder-storm of white, torn Christmas cards."
A Child's Christmas in Wales ~ Dylan Thomas