|
|
|
What matter how the night behaved? What matter how the north-wind raved? Blow high, blow low, not all its snow Could quench our hearth-fire's ruddy glow. -John Greenleaf Whittier (1807 - 1892), Snow-Bound; A Winter Idyl |
| If you have enjoyed my photographs, please consider making a donation to an innovative education project led by us, a project that seeks to help poor kids in rural India. |