Out of the bosom of the air,
Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,
Over the woodlands brown and bare,
Over the harvest-fields forsaken,
Silent, and soft, and slow
Descends the snow.
Even as our cloudy fancies take
Suddenly shape in some divine expression,
Even as the troubled heart doth make
In the white countenance confession,
The troubled sky reveals
The grief it feels.
This is the poem of the air,
Slowly in silent syllables recorded;
This is the secret of despair,
Long in its cloudy bosom hoarded,
Now whispered and revealed
To wood and field.
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
These photos were taken after a snow storm last month (back when my hair still looked red... I need to remedy that soon), so it seems fitting to post them today, after the 12+ inches of snow that got dumped on us in the past 24 hours.
I love snow, and I don't even mind driving in blizzards... other than the fact that there's terrible visibility and the chance of spinning out every five feet. If it's going to be cold (and New England has been fluctuating between mid fifties and below zero temps), it might as well be pretty.
What I'm Wearing:
- High-low top by xhilaration - hand-me-down
- Cardigan by MERONA - thrifted
- Jeans by American Eagle - hand-me-down
- Boots by eurostep - Famous Footwear
- Earrings - gift
-Amanda
Photos by Lydia Flynn
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