I used to love snow. Chance to get out of school, build snowmen and forts, sled. It was fun, even though it meant stinging days carrying wood to the truck so we could heat the house. Ice was fun to break off the roof and suck on the ice sickles. Jack Frost covered everything in a crystal blanket. Even rain wasn’t a cause to feel down. It meant jumping in puddles (for some mysterious reason I still don’t understand, children are drawn to puddles). Sunshine was a blessing too. It kisses your face.
What happened to me? Now I watch weather like a hawk. Worry about my wife/children driving on the roads with ice/snow. Worry about frosts or winter lows for my trees.
Somehow, somewhere, I got old.