These are the kinds of idyllic winter moments that almost never happen. But I had one of these moments as a teenager. The only reason I remember this is because I wrote a fricken romance thing about it eight years ago and found it today. The gist was: I sat in car with a boy. It started snowing unexpectedly through his sunroof. We made out at a stoplight. But I had turned it into some magically teenage scene with sentences like: “His soft lips parted mine and specks of ivory dust landed on our eyelashes and settled into the crevices of our clothes and hair.” And then I realized tonight, one of my last nights in Madison, WI, that there *can* be a kind of magical quality to an unexpected snow at nighttime. There’s something mysterious in the white sparkles against the black night. I will miss you Madison, but I can’t wait for my adventures in Seattle ahead!