There's just something about the first snowfall. Ours came today. The total accumulation can probably be measured in microns, but it snowed!
It's cold and damp. That's what happens for a first snowfall. It gets cold, (duh!) but not quite could enough. Much of the snow melts as it hits the still-warm ground. The damp just lingers in the air.
Later in the winter, when it's truly cold, the snow won't melt. It'll stay on the ground, the air will stay dry, and, although it will be cold, it won't be this damp-chill-through-to-the-bone-cold. I can actually handle 5 degrees better than 35 degrees. It seems backwards, but that's the backwardness that is me!
And this exhilaration I'm feeling at the sight of the first snow won't last, of course. As each successive snowstorm comes, yes, I'll enjoy it. I'll enjoy the crispness, and the stark branches against the grey sky, the red of rose hips against the white of the snow, the puffs of steam when people and animals breathe. Come March, though, this very same damp cold and sloppy snow will wear and tear on the soul. That's one of the things that makes spring, true spring ("wuv, twue wuv") so wonderful. That's one of the reasons I would really not enjoy a life in Florida, or Arizona, or even Tennessee. I need, really need a thorough change of seasons during the year. And I don't just mean hot season, less hot season, tourist season, migrating bird season, hot season again.
But for now, I'm enjoying the first snow, the first frosty fingers and nose, the last time I forget gloves and a hat for a while.