What snow feels like...

I just finished reading William Mayne's book Pig in the Middle (1965) in between Criminal Minds episodes. I turned in my other three library books on time but mostly unread. This book is worth turning in late. The most startling thing about his works are the details. Sometimes they seem everyday mundane and you want to rush over it. That's a mistake for even in the mundane details are an accuracy you could test out for yourself. Then you come across a detail that's so startling, it changes how you view your world. This is how I come to write the way I do...inventiveness is viewing through fresh eyes...

Here are two passages from Pig in the Middle, that change how I look at snow...

Snow was still falling, very gently. It had been falling
all night. The yard was full of it, rather more than a
foot deep. No one had ever walked in it. Robert put a
foot down, and the snow grains grunted under his heel.
He stepped out, and closed the door behind him. He
crossed the yard and pulled at the gate into the alley.
It opened a little way and then stuck. The snow had
banked up as he pulled. He put his slept-on hand into
the cold and dug like a dog. The door opened wide
enough for him to pace outside, lifting his feet like
royal horses. (page 107)

Robert took off his socks and found iced damp feet
inside them. His hands could feel the feet, the feet could
not feel the hands. He pulled off his coat, all starched
with snow... (page150)

Writing so amazing I feel like keeping the library book...but no...
I'll probably buy it online.