The winters will drive you crazy until you learn to get out into them.
You can't get too much winter in the winter.
I remember one winter, when I was about five or six, I spent three days with another boy, tracking a bobcat that had been sighted in another county fifty miles away, but which I was sure had come into our neighborhood.
Calgary wins for my coldest New Year's Eve gig. That's when I learned Fahrenheit and Celsius cross at 40 below. I could see callers' breath coming out of my phone.
Just being a Pennsylvania kid, I've played in the snow before. I don't know. I can still cut and run, like it's not snow.
He that is surprized with the first frost feeles it all the winter after.
I'm telling you, until I shaved my head, I never realized how much heat is lost through the top of the head. I walk out in winter and it feels like I have an ice pack on my head. Unbelievable.
That last winter was a tragic story and I got no personal honour out of it but I was a witness to it.
I have never seen snow and do not know what winter means.
Other seasons come abruptly but ask so little when they do. Winter is the only one that has to be relearned.
That's why you can't be a true Yankee without winter: because all the best pleasures are earned - the fire, the fried oysters; the warmer seasons, too. Who knows the real worth of summer at the beach without a good taste of the seaside in winter?
Maine out of season is unmistakably a great destination: hospitable, good-humored, plenty of elbow room, short days, dark nights of crackling ice crystals.
The best thing about a British winter is the cold weather, real fires, frosty mornings. I love living somewhere that has proper seasons.
My first winter was also quite hard because you are not used to how cold it is. But I just tried to adapt as quickly as I could and I think I did well. I was speaking English after six months.
My December is typically one big, sweaty 'wintry mix' blur, not a punch-laden, heartwarming mixer.
