Despite (usually) having to trudge six blocks to the train, avoid ice pockets along the way, and navigate the public transit system to work during a storm (I’ve found out the city isn’t big on snow days), I still get so giddy in the snow. I love it. It’s magical, and soft, and silent, and makes the world glow at night. No matter what I’m doing I always have to go outside during the first snow of the season. This morning, however, I received a lovely email that said, “Don’t come in today,” to which I said, “Not a problem!” and now I get to enjoy the snow from the warmth and comfort of my apartment.
Speaking of comfort, isn’t that what we all crave as soon as the weather starts heading south? (Be it in temperature or in mood…) I love to dance in the rain and catch snowflakes on my tongue in a rom-com-montage-that-will-never-happen kind of way, but I’m partial to snuggling up indoors and downing tea, bingeing on Netflix, and napping for hours. (Let’s pretend I only do this on snow days and not every other day of my life, OK?)
When I think snow I think comfort, coziness, familiarity.