"A sorrowful sight I saw ; dark night coming down prematurely, and sky and hills mingled in one bitter, whirl of wind and suffocating snow."

"Pure, bracing ventilation they must have up there, at all times, indeed : one may guess the power of the north wind, blowing over the edge, by the excessive slant of a few, stunted firs at the end of the house ; and by a range of gaunt thorns all stretching their limbs one way, as if craving alms of the sun."

In contrast, Wuthering Heights symbolizes the turbulent Earnshaw family and mainly Heathcliff. Dirty, dark, hostile and messy. Also symbolizing Catherine’s destiny if she continued to live there, specifically with Heathcliff.

One stop brought us into the family sitting-room, without any introductory lobby or passage;

The latter had never been under-drawn: its entire anatomy lay bare to an inquiring eye, except where a frame of wood laden with oatcakes and clusters of legs of beef, mutton, and ham, concealed it.

The surroundings are green and laden with natural elements, such as the garden, and the garden tree (and multiple others). Although the Grange is isolated from the urban life and probably lacks people around (e.g., neighbors), it is still alive due to the presence of natural life.

Furthermore, since they are wealthy and have several services at hand, we also suppose that everything in the surroundings suits perfectly (the plants and the hedgerows are trimmed, there are cobblestone paths, and the windows are covered with window box flowers)

The darkness of each interior secludes them from each other, just as its own inhabitants seclude to themselves.

As one can't really see someone else in a dark room, darkness might literaly separate people.

Cathy: "[...] instead of a wild, hatless little savage jumping into the house, and rushing to squeeze us all breathless, there lighted from a handsome black pony a very dignified person, with brown ringletsfalling from the cover of a feathered beaver, and a long cloth habit which she was obliged to hold up with both hands that she might sail in." (p.53)

Heathcliff: [...] not to mention his clothes, which had seen three months' service in mire and dust, and his thick uncombed hair, the surface of his face and hands was dismally beclouded." (p.54)