It still says Autumn on the calendar but the icy chill outside my window says . . .
To shiver, frozen, amid icy snow
In the bitter blast of a horrible wind;
To run constantly stamping one's feet;
And to feel one's teeth chatter on account of the excessive cold;
To spend restful, happy days at the fireside
While the rain outside drenches a good one hundred
To walk on the ice,
And with slow steps to move about cautiously
For fear of falling;
To go fast, to slip and fall down;
To go on the ice again and run fast
Until the ice cracks and opens up;
To hear coming out of the iron gates
Sirocco, Boreas and all the winds at war:
That's winter! But of a kind to gladden one's heart.
via Winter by Adam Gopnik, pg 6
Also, a video. Curl up under a blanket and brew something hot for sipping.