I am looking out my window at the most beautiful scene (well, minus the totally ugly military housing across the street from my totally ugly military housing building). We finally have snow. Not a sprinkling, not an inch here or there, but SNOW! There is even a rumor that we will have a full 8 inches by morning! Look out sled, here I come!

I can't wait for Liam to wake up and see the magic too.

I was so worried when I found out we were moving NORTH (gasp) that I wouldn't be able to handle the dreaded winter. Sure I grew up in Northern Virginia and I have spent many a winter in the Colorado Rockies, but those places would be nothing compared to the Great White North.

There would be constant snow shoveling, frozen cars, frozen windows, frozen dog (poor thing), layers and layers of clothing, possible power outages, and any other number of issues that I was sure I would be ill equipped to deal with. Boots, coats, hats, scarves, mittens or gloves? Who knew all the things we need to survive. And yet all of that fades into the beauty of the snow.

Then something odd happened. It didn't snow. It has been cold (off and on) and it has been yucky and rainy (but that isn't so different from a good Southern winter), but the big snows never came. October, November, and December came and went with only a few snowy patches that were quickly washed away by rain after a day or two. What fun is that? The locals threw their hands up and didn't know what to say. They too are shocked by the relatively green winter thus far.

And then it started to snow for real!

I love to watch it fall from the sky, I love to play out in it with Liam (who loves it as well), and I even find a certain satisfaction in the shoveling. Shoveling snow is a very visual (and relatively mindless) task. Exercise and productivity all in one activity.

I really truly hope that I never get tired of this and lose the wonder. I haven't been excited like this (with what I can only classify as a childlike wonder) in more years than I care to remember.