This is not my favourite time of year – ask anyone. These first snow storms – the ones that first tweak your winter bone – the introductory glancing blows of ugly after the short summer nice – are a real trial every year. From these little events we learn things about ourselves. Or at least, we remember things. Muscles, cold, frozen fingers – that kind of thing. No, I’ve invented new swears on days like yesterday – I just don’t dig winter.
Of course, some aspects of these storms are redemptive – for a while. Like when the Sun comes out and reflects off the fresh new snow, really giving my pooch something to contemplate.