Wintertide

There were only four other cars in the lot when she arrived.  The quietness of the hour struck her as she exited the car.  No cacophony of children's voices from the playground, no cars passing on the street, not even birds welcoming a new day.  It was still, serene.  A light snow mix fell from the slate sky.  32 degrees - but not a bitter cold.  She was snuggly dressed - warm boots, down jacket, scarf, mittens - so she could enjoy the bite of the air.
She gathered her belongings and headed toward the building.  This was the kind of snow she liked it occurred to her.  Gentle, peaceful, silent - and infrequent. At heart she was designed for the heat - a true desert rat. Yet - a winter morning like this could entrance her.  Enough snow had fallen so as to pop and crunch under her feet as she moved forward.  She delighted in the sound and wished for more powdery mornings like this.  Snowy days had been few so far this winter - not an unwelcome state of affairs for her - but a day like this was a happy change.
She did not hurry up the walk this morning, but lingered, drawn back by the gentle winter tableau around her.  An invitation to be present, observe, decelerate - and bask in the warm embrace of crisp December.

The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree
Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.
               ~Robert Frost