Still - I’m that girl.
Who wakes to morning snow with all that great hope and anticipation for the day ahead.
Still - I’m that one.
Who throws on her coat and hat and boots and runs.

Is this nature? Is it nurture? Is it in my childhood DNA?
Winter.
It’s long. It’s cold. It’s dark.
Here in these mountains.

But when it’s this?
It’s magic.