Does snow represent surrender?

When reading Ethan Frome it was clear to me that color was very important within the narrative. Zeena, being drab and boring, wore no colors, just beige, black and brown much like everyone else described in the story. Mattie was the same with the exception of red. A red scarf that symbolized youth and vitality because it was worn nearest the beginning of the novel when everything was still innocent, and a simple red ribbon worn at the end of the novel when it was more of the scarlet letter than of youth. What is also mentioned is the whiteness of the snow and the drab cold winters that last half the year and crush every one's already stifled spirits. As we well know now what red symbolizes, doesn't white symbolize purity and surrender? If we take the color of snow to be surrender, then doesn't the suicide at the end of the novel just mean that both Mattie and Ethan were surrendering to the oppressive notion of not being able to be happy together so they were really just surrendering to the Negativity of the word no, and trying to set themselves free?

It was clear that no matter how many illnesses Zeena would pretend to have, neither she nor that cat were ever going to die before Mattie and Ethan. Just like a cockroach she is going to live on, infesting everyone with her vindictively controlling ways and derive all the sick pleasure over "taking care" of Mattie and Ethan until one of them finally escapes their pitiful and depressing lives in Starkfield.

Isn't this the Law of Life

Although I am not a fan of London's short stories, I found the "the Law of Life" the most interesting to me.  The character of the old moose that fought against the wolves, I think, could arguably be the hero of the story. After witnessing the process and the aftermath of the wolves circling and killing the moose, he was able to understand what the moose was going through. He understood the animalistic instinct to fight back for its life, even though all movements were futile. Like the moose, he was old and been separated from the herd, leaving him by himself in the wilderness, leaving everything up to nature. The moose fighting back was much like his fleeting efforts to save himself from impending doom of teh circling wolves and the feeling of the wet nose on his arm, grabbing the most natural weapon a log on fire for protection. He tires till he realizes that fighting back is pointless, because his outcome is as hopeful as the outcome of the moose, who is now nothing by grey bones against dried blood on the cold hard snow.