Past its best maybe

Woke up this morning and the world was white.
Not thick white, or fluffy white
But a thin layer of wet heavy white.
It looked pretty but it turned to slush as soon as you walk on it.
An unexpected treat was the weight of the snow had broken two of the poles that held up the hen tent (or Chicken Sangatte as D2 calls it, sounds like a recipe rather than a refuge camp). Fortunately both the end poles survived and between them and the wooden coops the hens had a bit of room to move around.
We realised how heavy the snow was when we started to shift it, using brooms and very cold hands. In the end I had to crawl in and try and stand up. Eventually small avalanches either side of the tent cleared it.
We butchered poles from a couple of old tents and after a bit of a struggle, the hen tent was resurrected.  
We might have had a bit of trauma but the hens seemed OK , still vocal, still eating and four eggs again