This past weekend I had the privilege of visiting my godparents in the lovely, snow-covered hillsides of Elberta Village in northwest Michigan, on the shores of Lake Michigan.
On my way home Tuesday, I could not help but wince at the Los Angeles weather radar being shown on Chicago O’Hare International Airport’s many flight status monitors. It was at that point that I realized how much I would prefer staying in the great northern country a little longer. Give me cold weather any time, minus the raindrops pelting me.
I arranged my visit in part because it had been a while since I found myself in some nice powder, the prospect of going ice fishing with a cousin, and also to enjoy the company of family — however brief.