"To Build a Fire", by Jack London
Day had broken cold and gray, exceedingly cold and gray, when the man turned aside from the main Yukon trail and climbed the high earth bank, where a dim and little-traveled trail led eastward through the fat spruce timberland...The Yukon lay a mile wide and hidden under three feet of ice. On top of this ice were as many feet of snow. It was all pure white, rolling in gentle undulations where the ice jams of the freeze-up had formed.
Johnny Tremain, by Esther Forbes
On rocky islands gulls awoke. Time to be about their business. Silently they floated in on the town, but when their icy eyes sighted the first dead fish, first bits of garbage about the ships and wharves, they began to scream and quarrel.
The docks in Boston backyards had long before cried the coming of day. Now the hens were also awake, scratching, clucking, laying eggs...Boston slowly opened its eyes, stretched, and woke.