There's never been a time in my life when I wasn't entirely thrilled at the sight of the first snow. I mean like, going out into the open air and welcoming it with a smile. It's a bit magical. It happened here last night. And as anyone who lives in a snowy climate knows, eventually the magic dies and we start complaining about never seeing the sun again come February. But for the first month or so I like to embrace it.
When the winter starts to get depressing I like to curl up under a blanket with something hot to drink and watch Northern Exposure all over again for the twentieth time. It's like the second family I never had, living in the town I've always thought I would live in. It's my cold dreary weather comfort. There's this little piece of it that I think of every year when the first snow comes. I love it because they share my enthusiasm for the moment.