Look, I’m not some kind of winter freak. Quite the opposite. Despite living in Wisconsin driving in the snow still makes me nervous and I hate being cold. “Winter” makes me think of leaky boots and cold toes. Shoveling my car out of a street parking spot and getting a push from a neighbor. Sliding through intersections praying no one is coming the other direction. It’s also the only season that can be described as magical. Or enchanting. Winter Wonderland isn’t just a polite alliteration, it’s really true. White fluffy snow covering everything around you. Watching puffy white flakes fall dreamily in front of the street lights. The silence of winter interrupted only by the scrunch of snow under your feet. The diamond sparkle of snow in the sunlight. The feeling of that cool blast on your hot skin as you woosh down a mountain on skis. The fluffy featherlight feel of the snow all around as you move your arms and legs wildly out and in to make a snow angel. The grace of a single perfect patterned snowflake perched on your friend’s eyelash. The perfect heat of the mug of hot chocolate that warms pink chilly hands. But snow covered trees are maybe my favorite. We drove through the mountains of Oregon this weekend. The scenery, everyone’s old fashioned big-bulbed rainbow Christmas lights, the cozy diners there like an old friend, the wool and the fuzzy hats. All the reasons that snow is warming my soul this week.