There’s something about that first really warm day after a frustratingly cold winter that rejuvenates my soul. It peeks out from inside the thick, furry hood of my parka and grins, satisfied. It wasn’t meant to be bundled in three sweaters and four socks, it was made to be free, naked, and above all, warm. The wind blows; it’s only a mere shadow of the previous biting cold. My mind shifts to the near future—soon it will be warm enough to make a trip to the lake or take a ride on the motorcycle or have picnics on Mt. Mitchell. My soul practically giggles with anticipation. I check the forecast for the next day. Snow.