Silent, soft and slow

{ Winter 1 by Jo Bradford }

{ Winter 2 by Jo Bradford }

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Out of the bosom of the Air, 

Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken, 

Over the woodlands brown and bare,

 Over the harvest-fields forsaken, 

Silent, and soft, and slow 

Descends the snow.        

{Henry Wadsworth Longfellow}    

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{ Winter 3 by Jo Bradford }

{ Winter 4 by Jo Bradford }