Describing winter--Lenora Worth

I live in the deep south and I love palm trees. My two big saga palms and another taller palm tree were just beginning to mature into lovely plants. That is until the artic blast that swept across the country caused their lovely fronds to turn an ugly brown. I found a little green underneath the brown so I'm hoping I can revive them come spring. Seeing all the brown in my yard where green used to be got me to thinking about how we describe settings in our stories. If I had to describe my yard right now it would read like a mystery novel:

The paltry wind did a lazy dance over the cold water of the unused swimming pool, causing a clutter of wet drowned leaves to float like a corpse in a never-ending swirling circle across the frigid gray water. The trees shivered with bare-boned chills each time a gust of icy wind hit them. They had already surrendered their lovely leaves and now they stood like laughing skeletons, hovering over the barren wasteland of twisted vines and long-dead blossoms. Who had lived here last summer? Who had laughed and splashed in that water? Would this vast garden of doom and gloom ever allow flowers to bloom again? Would the wind ever blow warm and balmy over the ancient roses and camellias? Or would death cling to this silent, uncaring landscape until everything had turned brown and decayed and forgotten?

Well, you get the picture. I can't wait for spring. How would you describe your winter garden? Is it pretty and snow-white, still blooming with winter blossoms or maybe like mine--not that bad unless your write suspense and your imagination goes wild. It was a dark and stormy day .....