When I lived in a large metropolitan area a winter storm advisory meant that there would be traffic delays, noisy snowplows, and worries of just how to get from place to place. I now live in a small rural town where winter storm advisories mean a time to snuggle up with a good book, listen to the quiet of softly falling snow, and a time when art overrules logic. Somehow there is no better place and time to let that right side of my brain play as the world slows down to a halt, and the crisp cold air lets those creative juices flow. Summer doesn't do it; spring beckons to garden; and fall is a time to rake and repair. But, winter and snow, when the world is black, gray and white, that's the time I like best.
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