It's snowing here today. It snows here once a year. Then the snow turns to rain, then to seeds, then to flowers. There are other places where the snow lasts longer. I grew up in such a place. The Icebox of the Nation. When I went outside my nostrils would crack. My lungs would ache with each inhalation. My fingers were often a purply blue. And once I accidentally stuck my tongue on a frozen banister. There was nothing to do but yank and yank. Rip. A little piece of my tongue remained there until the end of spring.