The frozen touch of the white blanket hath yet again placed its numbing grasp around the area of my town. Though less than two inches tall, the blanket of snow is cold. I hate how in the Spring it's cold enough to freeze and there's not enough of it to do anything with and it's not the right kind for snowballs. Strangely, yesterday, I was walking through the windy blizzard. Snow was landing on me, but not hitting me in the face, and I was perfectly warm. I'd imagine that if I was moving faster it would have been cold.

The awful thing is I brought this on by saying "Hey, that hill is its summer colour (brown). Last time it was its summer colour it snowed."

Oops.