"It was already dark when the troops came to their night camp. The whole day had been quiet, frosty, with light, sparse snow falling; towards evening it began to clear. The deep purple, starry sky could be seen through the snowflakes, and the frost began to deepen."
Last night on the NPR radio program "Prairie Home Companion" there was a Lake Wobegon piece about the beauty of winter. Somehow Tolstoy captures the beauty and horror and brutality -- even of war. -- Lola
from page 599-600, volume 2 of original text
Pevear/Volokhonsky translation page 1089-1091