Winter in New England is sometimes portrayed as simply grey, a monochromatic world.  Yet, even the cloudiest day is a far more complex palette, as anyone who has ever tried to paint it will attest.

Last night, the broken clouds at sunset were pink, gold, and blue; while the white snow reflected all the colours, offset by the deep green hemlocks.  Today, a complete overcast has taken away the pinks and golds, dulling the greens.  But in place of those vibrant colours are the many shades of gray-blues: the gunmetal blue steel sky, the blue/green/grays of lichen, the brown/red/grays of many trees, the cold pewter of the beeches, the black/white of birches, the dulled rocks without a single sparkle in the mica, but the ice and snow cling longer to them then to the ground and the stone walls stand out in the woods. 

Hardly a monotonous world.