The weather had changed during the night, and now the air was sharp and cold.

Dark, bleak clouds hung along the horizon in the northeast, the distant hills stood out sharp and cold, and a chilling wind whispered and sighed through the leafless trees.
Then the wind grew stronger and stronger, the snow fell thicker and faster, making fantastic figures in the air, then dancing and scudding to the force of the gale, and shutting the opposite shore from sight.
Nyack lay buried in a storm, and the Tappan Zee was in a tempest.

Snow drifted through the streets, up the lanes, over the houses, and put night-caps on the mountain tops.

Snow danced into rifts in the roads and across fields, and sent the traveller to the inn for shelter.

Lowing cattle sought the barn-yard for shelter, or huddled together under the lee of some hay-stack, covered with snow.