4.30pm

Sunset.
 Gilded grasses glow under an azure sky.

Spring temperatures creeping quietly in.

9am

A glowering sky, rain, ceaseless rain.

9am

What is this magic light that has found us?

Drawn in on Jack Frost's coattails.

9.30am.

A most wondrous golden light spills over the land.

A herald of the sun's eclipse, like a proud, joyous fanfare.

4.30pm.

A glorious calm, a glorious sky.

The cooling air suddenly clamours in.

12.30pm

All day we are swathed in mists,

a quiet damp.

1pm.

Yesterday the rains came, the temperatures climbed.

Today there is no snow.

Christmas Day.

A perfect dawn. 

A white Christmas.

Happy Christmas to you!

8.45am

A perfect moon to greet us each cold, crisp morning.

The snow returns and lingers.

9am

We awake to a wonderland of fluffy, Narnian snow.

3.50pm

The sun melts like snow, dying in a flood of gold, down over the mountains.

8.45am

Rumours of snow drift down the coast on a bitter wind.

9.45am

The bitter winds blow in again bringing hail and sleet and snow.

We wait.

8.45am

A quiet morning. A brief respite from the cold.

4pm

The snow is melting off the mountain.

Sunrise.

3.30pm

A hard bright sun,

the frozen land like a silent waiting.

2.15pm

At last the snow is blown out and away, 

off to other parts for a while.

But the bitter air remains.

11am

Out of bitter air there blooms a snowy peak.

1pm

All day we are lost, swathed in a swirling wintry haze,

and the wind moans, moans through the house.