I'm walking around the city of Boston in the slushy snow. Sometimes rain, sometimes fat flakes, sometimes a mix. The ground has wet and slushy snow that crunches underfoot with huge cold puddles at the curbs and corners of streets. The cold air stings my face and refreshes me down to my soul.
I miss this. Big snowy & cold city, walking alone in streets surrounded by people. Side excursions into small parks and alleys most people avoid in the cold and damp. Ducking inside feels cozy rather than too warm and revives for more time out in the world.
I know the winter can get old when you live it for eight months or so out of the year. But even in month eight there are moments of wonder to be found. Every where the weather, the place, the scenery gets old, even miserable there are moments if wonder to be found. But you have to let them happen. Let yourself be open to wonder in whatever place it might find you.