The dull morning shed no light for the rest of the day. The gloomy clouds hung ubiquitously, forbidding any of the warmth or light the sun had to offer. The bitter wind passed through the bottle green spruce trees, tickling its branches, causing them to try and up root themselves to escape torture. The lonely foot hills lay at rest beneath a washed out quilt of snow, the odd passer by, looking like minute insects hard at work. Alas, beyond the quiet hills, the sky was a pale blue streaked with hope of pink and yellow, maybe the day wouldn’t be so bad after all.