The sky was dark and gloomy, the air was damp and raw, the streets were wet and sloppy. The smoke hung sluggishly above the chimney-tops as if it lacked the courage to rise, and the rain came slowly and doggedly down, as if it had not even the spirit to pour. – Charles Dickens, The Pickwick Papers

Got snow drifts? Think of all the magical snowmen buried beneath, waiting for release. – Dr.SunWolf, 2015 tweet, professorsunwolf.com