We've been in the umpteenth blizzard here for the past day and night. It's cold and makes doing just about anything impossible. It's loud as the wind bangs on the windows, howls around your head, and my husband is incessantly shoveling. It's clumsy and makes getting anywhere an ungraceful, tripping challenge.
I love it.
I love feeling like I'm in the middle of something so much bigger and more powerful than I am.
I love how it makes everyone friendlier. When you finally do mange to make your way into a shop or restaurant, you're greeted as if you've just made it through a marathon, with many smiles and compliments for your bravery.
I love it because everyone has big snow dogs, huskies and goldens and malamutes that bound through the snow and look like they're laughing.
I love it because it reminds me that the world really is still wild.
I love it because the children here are bundled up and sent on their way no matter what the weather, and my own children still do their PE classes outside. In Italy the children were immediately locked indoors at the first hint of winter, making them all sick and whithering until spring.
I love it because I now live in a place that actually hosts the world snow sculpture championships. What a cool sport...