When people ask, I always say Summer is my favorite season. The long days, the warm nights, the breezes. And, for the same reasons, Winter has always been my least favorite: Short, dark days, the cold, the cutting wind.

But in the last few days, I realized I don't mind, I may even like, Winter.

A blizzard hit us two days ago. We knew about it in advance, but it didn't seem logical with dry, warmer weather. But at the first sign of snow, BIPC shut its offices and in less than half an hour, the campus emptied out in a panic.

I stayed. No gurgling babies, no annoying cell phones. From my quiet spot inside, I could watch an unceasing white downpour. WHen at last I flashed my badge to open the rear door, my car was a lonely marshmallow bump in a melted marshmallow sea.

Thanks to front-wheel drive and a manual stickshift, Honda rumbled home peaceful in a land of amber and halogen chaos. IN this world, there were no lanes of traffic, only ruts barely visible in the onslaught, and like some 21st century pioneer, we charted our progress from landmarks. A gas station, a fast food restaurant. While other vehicles lobbed past me down the alley full of purpose, too often they became helpless bowling balls ploughing into the wrong pins or shimmying endlessly on the edge.

At home, the television flashed dire warnings and predictions, but Grace was eager to ignore them and out we went again on foot. It's clear Grace loves this weather as she long-jumps and bounds as good as any olympic competitor through virgin territory, dragging her human explorer behind her.

It's quiet the next morning and one look outside tells me that it's useless to attempt to get ready for work. Instead, I savor the time it takes to make a fresh pot of coffee and as Grace and I emerge for our morning slurry, neighbors are likewise bringing out the snowblowers.

The day becomes a big social hour and I don't mind so much because I'm also shoveling snow. I get caught up with my tenant and her son. I chat with my next door neighbor and pet his dog while his wife snaps the window-blinds from inside. I meet my neighbors across the street for the first time and ha! it's another gay couple. We all push each others cars out from the curb and shovel each others driveways. We all talk about cars and work and snowstorms and where we grew up.

As the temperatures fall to below zero, Gace and I finish the day watching movies on TV. (Well actually Grace sleeps.) Thinking back over the last two days, I realize maybe now there's only one season I don't like and that is Spring -- the brown months of incessant rain, mud and leaky basements.