I enjoy where I live. In the middle of North Carolina, I have mountains and an ocean within driving distance. I've made day-trips to both places. I enjoy telling family in February that it's in the 60s here. I like all the flowers - some, if you plant them, will ride out the entire winter season.
But today it is raining, stay-in-your-bed rain, read-a-book rain. In the mountains it's snowing.
I grew up in Michigan. It snows in Michigan. And I, and turn away if you cannot bear it, love the snow. Especially the first snow of the year. But snow in general is pretty fantastic in my book. Yes, it's cold. Yes, it can be dangerous. All the more reason to curl up with a good book. Children make it difficult, sometimes, to enjoy the snow. But if you get a good snow, then children provide a good excuse to build snowfolk or to go tobogganing or sledding. Children love the snow. And after you come inside from a good romp in the snow there is, and this is mandatory, hot cocoa for drinking.
And so today, all day, I've been rather depressed. I want the snow. I want the magic that shuts down the world for a day or two.
. . . . .
Toboggan is a superlative word, apparently. So superlative that in North Carolina we use the word to refer to a stocking cap instead of a long wooden sled. The etymology behind this usage is beyond me, but even so, it is so.