Like much of the East Coast, we had a white Christmas. Fortunately, we had already arrived where we wanted to be at my parents house on Virginia's Eastern Shore (beautiful in any season). What started out as a gentle snowfall providing nice backdrop to the day's festivities, gradually morphed into blizzard conditions by Sunday, keeping everyone housebound (except for the camera-clad foolhardy). By the time it stopped falling on Monday, there were 14-15" of snow on the ground. However the winds continued and sculpted the fallen snow, picking it up from some spots and depositing it into deep drifts elsewhere. Though it made for good photo ops, I would have preferred something a little less severe and a little less persistent.
On Tuesday the sun rose revealing itself for the first time in days, and we were able to make it home, but only because of the efforts of a cousin and his bladed backhoe. Back in Norfolk, the third largest snowfall in the city's recorded history had fallen. Waiting for us at home was a garden full of plants bowing to the ground, and as it warms today I will be attempting to right them and save what I can.
(You can see the complete set here.)