The tree stands on top of the bank, watching the skaters glide below. It wishes it could skate. It calls to the wind to help it and the wind pulls on it's branches. The skaters on the pond hear it's roots grind as it tries to get down onto the ice.
One skater looks up and wonders at the melancholy cause of the noise and sees the tree cry drops of dew onto the heads of the skaters. It cries desperately to the wind to pull harder and, then, with a heart rending crash, the tree falls to the ice.
The skaters scatter and flee to the edge of the pond. One by one, and slowly, they skate back, going around the fallen tree, ignoring it in it's last, dying, agony.
She awakes to the brutal sound of the new alarm clock, shrilling in her ear. Her eyes open slowly as she gropes for the button to kill the Christmas present's voice, and she see the unnaturally bright light as the sun shines through the yellow curtains.
It is such a surprise that she draws an involuntarily sharp breath. The trees that were once, although bare, still fairly green, have disappeared. In their place is a slowly undulating infinite sea of white, beginning halfway to the top of the lounge window downstairs.
"Tim, Gerry! Look, it's snowed!"
The patter of feet from the next room reveals that her brother and sister are also now up and, gasping, they too are beholding the sight of the first snow...