Winter is always the time I wish for snow, though I'm in the wrong state for that now I guess.
It snowed a lot more when I was a kid, and school was canceled several times that I remember. The fluffy power would coat the school garden outside my 5th Year classroom window. Turning the big, easy to take care of, tall broad leaved plants into a complex machine, loading up on snow only to release that load to the lower plants latter as they flexed and bent under the weight.
It also snowed more, not just the number of times, but the amount. I remember snow coming up to our front porch door quite easily, sometimes a lot further, requiring my father and I to clear it. Well... mostly my dad, I tended to stomp around in it. Getting wet, and cold, and not caring one little bit.
In later years there was barely an inch. Two, if we were lucky, a dusting if we weren't.
There's a more immediate, more intimate, quality to the world when it snows. Everything has acoustic dampening, noises far away are hushed and snuffed out,and the air makes you feel more alive, more alert, more there.
I remember sliding on ice across the playground in school when it closed, seeing how far I could get. I remember walking home at 2am in -8C weather and sliding down the slightly graded slope of the road all the way home without lifting my feet.
It's time to cuddle up, wrap up warm, and enjoy time with friends and family. Christmas is coming, but winter is here.