Even after all these years of living in the mountains, I’m still so excited by the promise of winter. This year is no exception. I returned home from Nashville (post to come) late Sunday night to a storm, including winds, lashing rain and sleet. When I woke up the next morning and drew back the curtains, I saw this. And promptly got giddy.
This time of year brings out the kid in me. It’s the only season where the weather can generate both adrenaline and the promise of possibility. Will it snow tonight? Will it snow a lot? Will I see more powder days this year than last? Ski those lines I’ve dreamed about? Learn how to jump (and land) things more than a few inches high?
To me, the snow and cold weather at this time of year is inspiring. Walking the dog, not typically a thrilling task, is just that when the air is crisp and there’s snow on the ground.
I know the weather is forecast to change tomorrow, but I’m going to revel in the inherent optimism that the promise of winter brings now.
Time to go practice my jumps.