That’s what I thought when I looked out my window this morning and saw it coming down (on top of the foot or so we’ve already had), so I thought I’d quote one of my favorite poems by one of my favorite poets, Hugh MacDiarmid (previously):
Lourd on my hert as winter lies
The state that Scotland’s in the day.
Spring to the North has aye come slow
But noo dour winter’s like to stay
And no’ for guid!
O wae’s me on the weary days
When it is scarce grey licht at noon;
It maun be a’ the stupid folk
Diffusin’ their dullness roon and roon.
That keeps the sunlicht oot.
Nae wonder if I think I see
A lichter shadow than the neist
I’m fain to cry ‘The dawn, the dawn!
I see it brakin’ in the East.’
— It’s juist mair snaw!
From To Circumjack Cencrastus (1930); “lourd” = heavy, sluggish, “the day” = today, “aye” = always, “maun” = must, “neist” = next.