Snow in the South is wonderful. It has a kind of magic and mystery that it has nowhere else. And the reason for this is that it comes to people in the South not as the grim, unyielding tenant of Winter's keep, but as a strange and wild visitor from the secret North. - that's a poem, sillies.
Having moved from New York to Georgia at the onset of winter I witnessed snow's magic first hand. Georgia was wrapped up in a slushy blanket of snow and sleet that hushed the fiery state with oohs and awws of child like amazement. It also allowed me ample time to paint.
