This past Friday night, I watched the snow fall.

It was 2am, far past the time my body wanted to be asleep. But the kid in me wanted to stay up and gaze out the window as the blizzard took shape, turning from a light dusting on the street and into a full-blown snow shower.

The snow was falling fast, yet softly, soundlessly. I hate winter—hate winter—and its cold and biting ways, but I’ve become mesmerized by the beauty of snow. I hate winter, but I have come to love walking in the snow, soft and fresh and pure. I have come to love watching the smattering of snowflakes as they fall from the sky and onto the ground. It makes me feel like I’m 8 years old again, wrapped up in the wonder of the world.

There was a lot of hysteria in everyone as we all anticipated the blizzard. One weather report said that we could get somewhere between 2 and 30 inches of snow, which seemed like a completely absurd thing to say. But, apparently, there were many scenarios that could occur, too many what ifs to make an accurate assumption.

But if you think about it, life it a lot like that. So many scenarios, so many variables, so many directions your life can move towards. And one tiny thing—a look, a smile, the way the wind decides to blow—can alter the course of your life.

I think about this often. I think about the way my life is very different from a year ago, when a completely different rotation of people were in my everyday orbit.  I think about how much I’ve grown, even though a year ago, I had no idea that I would feel anything other than what I was feeling ever again. I had no inkling that my perspective on life would have shifted so much just 12 months later.

I think on these things and I embrace the wonder of life, giddy about the possibility of what will be just around the corner.  For now, it may just be another icy winter day, and I’m okay with that.