The chimes drew me

Looking at this picture from my little writing room upstairs, you can almost hear the chimes that drew me to my window. Their music cuts the silent air as a knife through soft butter. Silence envelopes the land even in the afternoon for schools are closed and everyone is back indoors from their morning romp in the cool white. Rooftop snow is warmed by the sun but cannot all be eliminated in the frosty air and drips a  lingering jagged icicle.

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