This Norman Rockwellesque scene is a footnote from an ideal childhood. Watery blue and pink lines crackling across the ground give the perfect illusion of well-tread snow. The trees against the white northern sky are a wispy vermilion web, the rickety lines of the snow fence are almost a non-colour, dirty and weathered with a hint of everything on his palette. Doig renders all of these with a faded nostalgic charm; then violently attacks it with bright white snowball splotches. He invisibly paints the viewer into the scene as the incriminated snowballer.