Anyone who knows me or even has just spoken to me during the winter months knows how much I love snow. I love the way it makes me feel like a little kid, amazed by the magic of the sky. I love the way it looks: the pure white color that sparkles on sidewalks. I love the way it falls on trees giving the bare branches something to display.

Last weekend, I finally got what I have been waiting all winter for -- snow. Real, fluffy, frolic-worthy snow. Before I even looked out the window on Friday, I knew what was outside. I’m like Lorelai Gilmore. I can feel it. Snow and I have that kind of connection.

I raced down the stairs and went outside in my pajamas. I couldn’t believe my eyes; I didn’t think this kind of magic was possible in Nashville. But here it was, fresh and undisturbed, like a gift waiting for me to unwrap it.

(At this point, you’re probably thinking: this girl is a little bit too into the snow. You’re probably right, but you have to admit, it’s really something.) Anyways.

When my roommates woke up, we decided to go on a quest for donuts at one of the only places brave enough to open that day. I skipped and twirled and gushed and if we’re being totally honest, I even hugged one of the beautiful trees (still not sure why I did that but it felt like the move). We got the donuts and made our way back to our home. We talked and laughed and drank coffee and hot chocolate.

And I found another reason to love snow.

I love the way it makes you slow down. We couldn’t go anywhere that our feet couldn’t take us. The snow gives you an excuse to ignore your responsibilities and enjoy the company of those around you. To make breakfast for dinner and watch three movies. We had a whole day where no one was rushing off to one commitment or another, we could just be.

Snow reminds us to appreciate the simple pleasures: good coffee, excellent company and the magic that falls from the sky.