There is something so peaceful about waking up on a snowy morning.

Don't get me wrong. I have been longing for blue skies and sunny weather as much as anyone. Probably more than many. I spent last summer in Virginia, which basically equates to no summer.

Virginia summer = boiled people
Utah summer = baked people

What is a summer without being baked? Not really a summer at all.

But it doesn't matter what time of year it is, what the weather has been like, or what the weather is expected to be. You will never find me unhappy to wake up to find the clouds low and grey and the trees frosted in white.

Snowy mornings resonate with something deep inside, something I forget until I wake up to a quiet world covered in snow and find it there inside of me. It is the very me-est part of me.

It is easy to get a little off balance with this crazy life pushing and tugging and swirling me around in whirlwind of fabulousness.

All I need is a snowy morning.

It brings me back to me.