A winter garden in an alder swamp, Where conies now come out to sun and romp, As near a paradise as it can be And not melt snow or start a dormant tree. It lifts existence on a plane of snow One level higher than the earth below, One level nearer heaven overhead, And last year's berries shining scarlet red. It lifts a gaunt luxuriating beast Where he can stretch and hold his highest feat On some wild apple tree's young tender bark, What well may prove the year's high girdle mark. So near to paradise all pairing ends: Here loveless birds now flock as winter friends, Content with bud-inspecting. They presume To say which buds are leaf and which are bloom. A feather-hammer gives a double knock. This Eden day is done at two o'clock. An hour of winter day might seem too short To make it worth life's while to wake and sport. --robert frost The past few weeks there has been a few major snow storms. Finally. After last week's storm I was finally able to go cross country skiing at the Green Belt in Waukegan, IL. It was so beautiful. I can't even begin to tell you. So peaceful. While I was skiing I also spotted a massive owl. I thought at first that it was a huge hawk flying in front of me but once I caught sight of his face I couldn't believe I spotted an owl in the middle of the day.