Road Less Travelled

I have a love-hate relationship with winter. I hate the cold, the inconvenience of it and the lackluster, colourless days when the sun hides behind a darkened horizon. But I cannot help but love the first snow, the way it blankets the landscape in a perfect, crisp white. How the flakes cling to the trees, making them look both eerie and beautiful; their branches like pale spidery arms reaching out to you, calling you home.