Oh Snow

My childhood memories of snow are also quietly traumatic. One of my cousins buried me in a drift up to my neck and I couldn't get out until spring. I had severe frostbite in some unpleasant places. On the up-side (there is always an upside, I am an optimist) my grandmother only takes half as long to knit me gloves, now that there only have to be two fingers.
I like this picture.