Thoreau writes in his journal:
The snow, which had drifted badly, ceased about 2 o’clock, I went forth by way of Walden road, whither no sleigh or sled had passed this day, the fine dry snow blowing and drifting still . . . From Bare Hill I looked into the west, the sun still fifteen minutes high. The snow blowing far off in the sun, high as a house, looked like the mist that rises from rivers in the morning. I came across lots through the dry white powder from Britton’s camp. Very cold on the causeway and on the hilltops. The low western sky an Indian red, after the sun was gone.
