I love snow

 

The word snow for many of my New England relatives is synonymous with the word Florida. My father felt when the first red leaf fell from a tree, it was time to head south. Aunts, uncles, cousins were not far behind.

Not me.

Although, when I lived in Boston, to escape the cold for a few days and visit my folks in Florida for walks on the beach, bridge and early bird specials, was great. I was always happy to get back to mittens and scarves. Boston in the snow has a different beauty.

Geneva does not have a lot of snow in comparison to the rest of Switzerland. Thus, when it snowed yesterday, I was thrilled. We'd been planning to go up the mountain so Sherlock could play in the snow. Strangely, the dog won't go near water unless it is white and frozen which he loves.

The photo is of the garden outside our flat. In a few weeks it will be a rainbow of yellows, pinks, purples as flowers bloom. In the autumn, a tree in the corner will be fire engine red. The changes bring joy. I adore them all.

In summer the bench is a great place to watch birds fly to their nests to feed their babies, for Sherlock to run around and for me to read.

So today, being in sweats, planning tea, reading, writing and even watching the end of the impeachment trial with trips into the garden with the dog seems to me to rate a 15 on a scale of 10.