Snow is beautiful. In the air, on the ground, i love it. I have long since said that one of my favorite sounds is the sound of snow falling, when it is so peaceful and quiet that you can hear such a soft sound.
However.... When you've been buried under so much snow and ice that you can't recall how long it has been or even what day it is, it is then that the snow is no longer so pretty in my eyes.
When I've scarcely been able to get my poor car out of our street, not that anything is open to go to anyways, and when my own front porch is so slippery that it threatens my life, this is how I begin to feel:
Slowly but surely the snow is beginning to melt and I am able to greet the world outside beyond the eyesight of my kitchen windows once again.