A coat of paint applied in the night,
the landscape now devoid of color,
bleached and the edges smudged,
no details visible in the early light.

The sun begins to climb and burn through
the **** frost that clings to everything,
setting the morning afire, with tiny LED lights
as each crystal and each flake reflect.

The wind is powered by Sols energy,
it begins to pick up and roll the powder,
combining it with ice and forming forts,
and mountains, as it piles it high.

Outside adventurers return,
red-cheeked and frozen,
glazed white like cinnamon rolls,
and in need of hot chocolate.