In law school, my sweet friends of northern extraction found great humor in my eager anticipation of each snowfall. They said that I would tire of it, and soon enough would join them in their dread. Seven years of multiple annual snowfalls and the ennui has yet to set in.
I just love how everything looks fresh and clean. How a snowy night makes our world go sepia-toned. How people pull out boots and fuzzy hats, and huddle under umbrellas. How pedestrians are more likely to talk to one another, since there's something so obviously worth talking about. How a good jaunt in the snow entitles one to hot chocolate and thick socks and some lazy TV time. Everything is just a little more magical.
Granted, when you live in a place where, instead of school and work being cancelled for days in honor of a snowy forecast, life just goes on like usual, it can be a bit less thrilling. Running errands in the snow and commuting in the snow and pushing a stroller in the snow are not that great. And once the snowplows and blowers make their rounds the majesty is a bit disturbed. But, in my opinion, it's still a good trade.
Spending today on a continuous loop between our apartment and the snowy courtyard...don't think there won't be pictures!