The simple truth is that she is a little weary of deep snow and icy cold, and at times, she is even a little tired of the color blue.
It is at such times that something small or curved or delicately snow wrapped shows up and begs attention, ice bubbles in the creek, snow crystals high in the trees, the shape of a single perfect beech leaf resting on the trail at her feet.
Just when one decides that she is thoroughly weary of ice and snow and will not sketch or take another single photo of such things, another winter scene presents itself to the eye. Small and perfect, complete with itself, it conveys an elemental peace and balance, lowers the blood pressure and stills the breathing, returns one's eyes and focus to simplicity and assent.
Worlds great and small are everywhere, worlds within and worlds without, and every one is a wonder to behold and remember... Surely, I can do this for a while longer.