Nothing makes me any happier than when the weatherman says those three little words everyone wants to hear — chance of snow.
OK, so maybe not everyone. OK, OK. Maybe not anyone.
If I’m not alone in loving winter, it sure does feel like it lately. I have heard a whole lot of grumbling around the office lately about the weather. The complaints range from there being too much snow to it being too cold to how winter should be outlawed all together.
I just don’t understand these people. Winter is the best season by far. The other seasons could learn a thing or two from winter, if you ask me.
A friend asked recently what’s the best thing about winter. There’s no way to whittle the many wonders of winter done to just one thing, I told him.
I love getting the season’s first warning of a chance for snow and hoping it’s right.
I especially love the first major snowfall of the season. I have a tradition of going for a walk during the first snowfall and just taking it all in. I’ve been known to set an alarm and get up in the middle of night so I don’t miss the first snow.
I love watching the snow fall. I love trying to focus on a single slow-falling flake and following its full descent to the earth below.
I love the way that just an inch of snow can make everything beautiful. The way the world seems to be quieted when it’s blanketed in snow.
I love the way ice clings to barren trees, showing off every turn of every limb.
I love the way snow moves when the wind is blowing. Like it’s a thin, sheer blanket moving as one even though it’s a million tiny pieces.