Last night I went over to Kimmaaaaaaayyyyy's house for spaghetti and crafts. She knitted, I crocheted, and we talked for ages.
On the drive back home it snow squalled. Nothing severe. It was puffy snow that blew about: sometimes in blasts, sometimes in swirls, sometimes slowly and in circles. It blew upwards, and downwards, and lashed across the road in long trails. It filled up all the air with fat white flakes. It was light and blowy and lovely to be in.
It stirred up a long forgotten childhood delight in the snowfall. I drove around for a bit, just delighting in the drifty, blowy, swirly, snow squall.