Some days start with howling winds and the lazy drizzle of rains that know there's no hurry to get all Perfect Storm on us; they have all winter to play.
Others cheer me awake by laying a warm-hearted sunbeam on my face, a red herring to the stinging cold outside. The skies are so bright that I forget what season it is right up to the point when I open the door to head out, and then it jumps in and embraces me head to foot: hello, I am the cold and I'll be your outdoor guide for the next couple of months.
But no matter how miserable it is outside, home's a different story.
You know what they say: home is where the hearts are. Or maybe that's just what I say.