Yes, we are tired of this perpetual winter. Polar vortexes and snowmageddons are making our lives unbearable. Gray skies are a burden on our psyches.
Yet, there is a certain beauty in fresh fallen snow, especially since it covers up the dirty, gray slush left behind from the last snowfall.
Bare trees adorned with fresh fallen snow are elegant. They are like skeletons draped in white cloth.
Verses in the gallery are from the poem "Trees," by Joyce Kilmer.
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