I went North for the cold. I wanted to learn what ice falling from the sky felt like. And I did. It came down softly in Waterloo. It blew sideways into my face in Harlem. It drifted into my lungs in Chicago. It swirled quietly at night in Portland.
Despite the freezing cold that comes with it, snow is more comfortable than rain. You can brush it off. It doesn’t soak into you the same way that a hard Southern California downpour does.
It’s not better, of course. It’s just different.
