There’s something about the first snowfall of winter.

It looks beautiful as the soft, white specks fall from the sky onto the bare, leafless trees. Somehow the trees look just as beautiful covered in snow as they do dressed in their colorful leaves during fall.

It’s a pain as streets become crowded with inches of something so pure, yet so evil, it causes accidents, shoveling, and well, the frigid weather.

It’s joyful as kids dress up in snow suits, every inch of their bodies covered to protect them from the cold. They build snowmen and forts and have snowball fights. Watching them brings back memories from my childhood, missing but cherishing the time I spent playing in the snow.

But most of all, what I love about the first snowfall is it means we can all take a breath — a slow, deep breath — because to me, snow forces us all to slow down. It forces us to drive cautiously, not rushing from place to place, making us not only more aware of the other drivers on the road, but the scenery around us — the actual snow. It forces us to pay attention to the beauty that surrounds us. Usually I find myself rushing, wanting to get to my destination as soon as possible. It’s not that I don’t want to do that in the winter, it’s that I can’t. The snow forces me to slow down, which probably makes my parents happy (although they don’t want me driving in the snow in the first place).

The first snowfall of the year marks winter, but it also marks the time of the year for me to slow down and appreciate what’s around me, which I guess goes hand in hand with the holidays. Funny how that works, huh?