“In cold December fragrant chaplets blow, And heavy harvests nod beneath the snow.” Alexander Pope
“How did it get so late so soon? It’s night before it’s afternoon. December is here before it’s June. My goodness how the time has flewn. How did it get so late so soon?” – Dr. Seuss
“The inhabitants of Thrush Green woke on Sunday morning to find an eerie lightness reflected from their celings and a hushed white world outside their windows.
Snow was still falling, steadily and gently, and had settled by breakfast time to a depth of two or three inches. The steep Cotswold roofs, white beneath their canopies, showed sharp and angular against the leaden sky which promised more snow. A light powdering had settled along the branches of the chestnut trees, and round the many bird-tables of Thrush Green the footsteps of dozens of small birds made hieroglyphics as they came seeking charity.”
Miss Read from “Winter in Thrush Green”
“God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December.”
– James Matthew Barrie
“What’s up, Ratty?” asked the Mole.
‘Snow is up,’ replied the Rat briefly; ‘or rather, down. It’s snowing hard.’
The Mole came and crouched beside him, and looking out, saw the wood that had been so dreadful to him in quite a changed aspect. Holes, hollows, pools, pitfalls, and other black menaces to the wayfarer were vanishing fast, and a gleaming carpet of faery was springing up everywhere, that looked too delicate to be trodden upon by rough feet. A fine powder filled the air and caressed the cheek with a a tingle in its touch, and the black boles of the trees showed up in a light that seemed to come from below.
‘Well, well, it can’t be helped,’ said the Rat, after pondering. ‘We must make a start, and take our chance, I suppose. The worst of is, I don’t exactly know where we are. And now this snow makes everything look so very different.’
Kenneth Grahame from “The Wind in the Willows”
“But at sunset the clouds gathered again, bringing an earlier night, and the snow began to fall straight and steadily from a sky without wind, in a soft universal diffusion more confusing than the gusts and eddies of the morning. It seemed to be a part of the thickening darkness, to be the winter night itself descending on us layer by layer.”
― Edith Wharton, Ethan Frome
In winter with warm tears I’ll melt the snow And keep eternal spring-time on thy face.
“Next day the snow began to fall, large slow flakes drifting on a light wind. The sky was leaden and the earth crouched beneath it drained of beauty. All the light and loveliness were in the snow itself, in the movement and glimmer of the flakes as large as white roses, in the tide of whiteness flowing slowly over the dark earth, like moonlight or the surf of a soundless sea. Mary moved through her day entranced, for this was not only her first snow at Appleshaw but her first country snow.”
Elizabeth Goudge, from “The Scent of Water”