This has probably been the snowiest winter we’ve seen in a few years, and despite its inconveniences, there really is something very beautiful about snow. I love how it just blankets everything, making it look clean and white and pretty.

 
This is my backyard. Every morning, I get to wake up, look out my window, and see this. And every morning, I tell myself I really should keep my camera upstairs so I can take photos from my bedroom window. (Of course, I never remember this by the time I’m ready for bed at night.)

 
Even when it’s coming down hard, snow still manages to fascinate me. Maybe it’s because I was born and raised in a tropical country, where the only “snow” you encounter comes in the form of shaved ice in a cup, topped with syrup, sweet beans, coconut, ice cream, milk, and sometimes, a chunk of flan. Come to think of it, that version of snow kinda fascinates me too.

 
Of course, once the snow stops and business of digging cars out and clearing driveways begins, I start dreaming of other places, where the weather is poles apart from these arctic blasts of cold that make me painfully aware of my aging bones. Then I think that, as much as I love my morning view from my bedroom window, I wouldn’t much mind a backyard view more along these lines.

 
And, speaking of poles, I wouldn’t mind trading in my winter shovel for one of these.

Dear winter,

You’re pretty and you’re white. But I think I’m ready for spring now. Thanks for coming, though. See you again next year?

With reluctant fondness,
Ivoryhut