Yesterday it snowed all day - big, fat, heavy flakes. The front garden had disappeared except for a few tips of lavender. The cedar, the alberta spruce and the white pine trees looked like they had been iced with thick vanilla frosting. It took me a little longer then usual to shovel the driveway - I kept stopping to enjoy the quiet of a snow muffled world. Then the fog crawled in. By morning the temperature had dropped, the wind had picked up, and the soft snow had turned to mountains of ice. But inside we had Sydney.