
Nothing brings out the feel and scent of winter like a snow-capped pine forest. The fresh mountain air, the crunch of snow and frozen tundra under your boots, wildlife scampering through the underbrush, nothing around for miles and miles.
Nothing that is, except for the taxi zoomming by spalshing you with day-old nyc street slush because you are too close too the curb, crouched down like some photographer-wanna-be to take a picture of the christmas trees lined up for sale outside of the corner bodega.