Get ready.  Here comes a long diatribe about winter.  Yeah, I know I should follow the words of my spiritual and comedic hero Mark Twain and just forget about actually wanting to change the weather, instead of just talking about it, but alas I cannot.

Winter, how I once loved you.  How I once loved the fact that when everyone I was in, I was out enjoying you.  I was out in the snow, enjoying the cold, the ice.  How I used to run under the lights, thinking there was more snow there, when it turned out it was just the reflection of the light.  How I once I loved that I had you all to myself.

But at some point, my love turned to hate for you winter.  You took away all of my cute shoe options, you made all pants get covered in melted salt miasma.  I have fallen down in your ugly grip and my heart has stopped on ice slopes brought on by your ugly coverings.

Winter, I must deal with you, the only way I know how.  By photographing it.

Here is not my summery contentedness: