Writer's Guide

Winter Imagery

Winter Imagery

Are you writing about a Winter day and need to set the mood? See if the following lines inspire you...

The sky was gunmetal gray, and the air sat dead cold on cars and sidewalks.

The sky was covered by one gigantic white cloud that stretched from horizon to horizon that defused all sunlight like an opaque florescent light cover.

The grass was frost-robbed of color.

I pulled the stocking over my ears, pulled the hood over my head and tightened the drawstrings. I looked stupid, but at least my ears wouldn't crack off like icicles.

Morning dawned late under tedious unending cloud cover that was the color and texture of cement.

The entire farm sat under a shroud of ice.

I was cold clear to the bone.

The cold snap made a well digger's ass seem like a hot toddy.

The cloud cover was low and unending.

I was freezing my butt off, wondering where the hell the sun was.

The sun was weakly shining in a murky sky, and the air felt cold against my exposed skin.

It was March and THIS snowstorm was having a hard time working itself up into anything serious.

I scratched my cheeks. The stubble itched. My fingers were cold on my face.

The chill in the air had seeped into my bones.

Steam-like condensation rose from his quivering body in the cool winter air, giving him a haunting appearance.

Any exposed skin felt the stinging bite of the frigid air.

The freezing cold seemed to suck the joy right out of me.

The air was cool, but the sky was clear blue. Spring felt like it was ready to arrive.

I came back inside, blinking snow off my eyelashes.

"____" I said, my breath billowing white in the freezing air.

The farm had taken on a strange quality: the clouds above had grown indistinguishable from the snow below, the horizon had disappeared, and solid objects no longer generated shadows: whiteout.

The cold air was serrated by sleet.

The freezing wind cut my exposed skin.

His nose was red with cold.