We've had two falls of snow recently. Proper snow, that is. The first fell overnight on a Thursday. Friday dawned silently. The main road at the end of the garden was empty of traffic. For some time, we were cut off. Living at the top of a hill meant that there was no access from any direction. It was peaceful and the snow was beautiful. There is nothing as nice as being 'snowed in' when the house is warm, a fire is burning in the grate and the pantry is full of food. And if it only lasts for a day. We stayed inside with our gates firmly closed.
Our corbels were snow covered. Which is not a phrase that you get to use everyday.
Our arbor had a cushion of snow.
It reached up to the window of S's study aka Mr Bennett's Library. Mind you, the window is only six inches from the ground so perhaps not as spectacular as it looks.
And the house looked beautiful. To my eyes, anyway. The surveyor who came to check that the bathroom was in fact a bathroom thought otherwise. But what would he know?