Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields,
Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air
Hides hills and woods, the river and the heaven,
And veils the farm-house at the garden's end.
|Subject||∅ 27mm (1,06“), Aquarell|
|Paper||300g Water Color Paper|
|Dimensions||20 × 20 cm|