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Winter, at first thought I hate it. Then one frigid day it will begin to snow and my surroundings become a glistening wonderland. I try to hide my awe as I gaze at the canopy of snow-covered branches on my drive down the tree-lined streets of town. I remember seeing streets like this in movies, as a child, and thinking, "Places like that don't really exist." I guess I never really looked up in my own town.

Another amazing sight comes on the coldest days of winter, when it is too cold to snow but there is enough moisture in the air to cover everything with frost. The telephone lines look as though they are Jack Frost's crystal trail, left as he jumped from house to house to give us all a chill. My daily drive on the roads that cut through the vast cornfields of the Tri-Cities exposes leafless trees embraced by blankets of crystallized frost, as though the Snow Queen herself kissed them.

" They look like diamonds, Mom," I hear exclaimed from the back seat.

"Yes, they are beautiful."

Then the fateful day will come when I become a prisoner in my own driveway, held captive by the relentless falling disaster that is snow. The novelty of the first snowfall quickly fades as cars slip into ditches and collide with each other and people humbly surrender to Mother Nature.
Wouldn't it be glorious if snow would fall onto the trees, but only fall to the ground where needed, like on the sledding hill or the lane for sleigh rides? Of course, it can take up residency in children's' backyards where they are so bundled up they waddle like little penguins on their quest to build the most magnificent snow friend a mother has ever seen.