Everyone has a favorite season. Here in New England, however, we’ll find something to complain about in every one of them. Mother Nature just rolls her eyes and ignores us.
Door 10 opens to my favorite season.
December 10, 2025
We have four, distinct seasons in New England. I like to joke that they are Slushy potholes, Sweaty Potholes, Leafy Potholes, and Winter. For reasons that most people around here won’t listen to, winter is my favorite season. Not just because the potholes are filled with ice and snow for a smoother ride, but because it snows.
Snow is magical.
I don’t really need to say more than that. But I know that a decent percentage of you think I need to explain myself. I give you Exhibit A:
I took this photo at the top of my front stairs. It’s a record of activity on the stairs since I left the house before it snowed. A bird walked across the top step and apparently took off from the edge of the step. The mail carrier trod up and down the stairs in his boots to leave a package. I was the last to arrive, leaving the print with all the circles. I would never have known that any of this happened in my absence without the snow. The package would’ve been a dead giveaway that the mail carrier had visited, but I wouldn’t know what kind of footwear he had chosen for the day. The snow left a record of the day’s events on the stairs. Magical.
Another magical property of snow is the way it dampens sound. The hush after snow blankets the landscape is the most peaceful sensation. The magic part is that this silence makes it possible to hear things I normally wouldn’t: the wind breathing through the tree branches; the call of a distant hawk; children’s voices drifting through the cold air as they play in the snow. It is all muted yet simultaneously amplified by the magical properties of snow. Magical
The next time snow is in the forecast, after you internally groan at the effect it will have on your commute, think about the magical properties of snow and be transported to that peaceful, hushed landscape. And it wouldn’t kill you to be grateful for the snow-filled potholes that save you a couple hundred bucks on a new tire. Magical.
Open the other Advent calendar windows here:
Subscribe to open the next advent window in your email!