Allegheny's docile rolling hills are cloaked in December's ruse. An endless pallid landscape looms from this once grassy dale, wistful for the geniality of summer. Glacial winds churn the unsullied snowfall, biting boldly exposed skin. Cautious, watering eyes peer laboriously through narrow slits at the bones of winter. The point where earth meets the sky, indistinct. Windswept snow and forest seized in the balance. Barren forsaken trees reach for the heavens, bewildered by their futility. Designated nature's redundant, derelict relatives, abandoned to sustain ourselves. Paradise has migrated and we are once again , the bastards of creation.