We often call our little piece of land 'Camelot' because it is everything we ever wanted. Our kids sometimes call it "Come-a-lot', because they do. These are pictures I have taken over the past couple of snowy days. The weather is quite mild, the snowflakes are gargantuan but because of the mild temperatures there is not much accumulation. There is just enough snow to make everything look pristine, like a Courrier & Ives greeting card. I think I have already posted the lyrics to Camelot to accompany photos in a previous post. But as I viewed these photographs I could not get the lyrics out of my mind. Too bad Arthur did not decree that there always had to be chinks of sunlight escaping through the snow clouds to make everything sparkle and shimmer ... I know, I'm getting way too demanding! Anyway, please indulge me ... here are King Arthur's melodic decrees for paradise again:
It's true! It's true! The crown has made it clear. The climate must be perfect all the year.
A law was made a distant moon ago here: July and August cannot be too hot. And there's a legal limit to the snow here In Camelot. The winter is forbidden till December And exits March the second on the dot.
By order, summer lingers through September
I know it sounds a bit bizarre, But in Camelot, Camelot
That's how conditions are.
The rain may never fall till after sundown.
By eight, the morning fog must disappear.
In short, there's simply not A more congenial spot For happily-ever-aftering than here In Camelot.
Camelot! Camelot! I know it gives a person pause,
But in Camelot, Camelot
Those are the legal laws.
The snow may never slush upon the hillside. By nine p.m. the moonlight must appear. In short, there's simply not A more congenial spot