It is always amusing to run down the hill and see what the weather did elsewhere.  Yesterday’s little bit of snow, the wonderful just-barely-snow sort that sticks so beautifully to the trees, had vanished in the valley by the mid-morning.  Just a few hundred feet separated the fairytale like trees, spun sugar ornaments upon every branch, from a pleasant, if damp, but nothing special landscape of early winter.   Yet looking up at the hills, they were and still are crowned in silver and ivory against the blue sky.