Wherever it is, there will be snow; this to sate that old, old yearning I still have for it at this time of year. This isn't to say I'm off to to roll my ass in the eternal night blizzards of the North Pole, but the fascination lingers nonetheless on a level I just can't explain.
You'd really have thought that I'd have got it out of my system, wouldn't you, given a pretty decisive experience of it, but snow represents something so fundamental to me that the thought just won't melt from my soul. Yeah, as I've said before, been there done that, got the cold tee. Still. Give me blue Winter moonlight and the hush of the infinite sky. Give me a white dusting of icy blossom to softly coat the ancient kernel of my restless soul.