Where's the Snow?

Yesterday afternoon, warnings were issued for a winter storm to hit Ontario that would begin in the evening as freezing rain/ice pellets and turn to snow overnight dumping 15 cm's or more onto our otherwise leaf cluttered streets and yards. I went to bed thinking of what analogy I would use to describe the beautiful sight of a blanket of freshly fallen snow where hours before rusty coloured leafs laid quietly. For the record the common artist's clean white canvas comparison came to mind. But alas, all that thinking and composing I did in my head last night (or early this morning as I saw the clock crawl past midnight) was wasted. I woke up this morning to the sound of ice hitting my window and a sort of greyish white mass doing a bad job of hiding the fallen victims of autumn.

They, whoever they are, are still calling for snow but for now, the weather is as dreary as a Vancouver winter, only colder and more painful as the ice pellets attack any exposed flesh like tiny daggers thrown from the Gods.