grey is the new white

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I saw snow today. Just a bit. A quick flurry of little white flakes fell from the heavens, hung around for about an hour and then promptly scampered away when the bright, cold, winter sun popped out. That's winter done and dusted then. The daffodils can come out to play now. I say that in jest, but to be honest I am quite looking forward to some bright colours in nature. I don't mind winter. What it lacks in colour it makes up for in darkness, solitude and cosy nights in. Visually it's just so dull and dirty in the winter. Autumn is full of golden and red hues, whilst spring brings bright green and fresh yellow. Summer owns every colour of the rainbow, and more. But winter just doesn't care, like a sulky emo teenager enjoying some melancholia and misery in his smelly, grubby bedroom. I want my winter to be more like a man. Winter should be strong and forceful, deep and meaningful, bringing a landscape of dazzling white snow and providing rosy-cheeks to children and adults alike. None of this grey malarkey. Grey is so demotivating. It's not an attractive quality, to be so grey. Please Snow ... don't come back till you've grown a pair and can provide more than just a damp squib of a snow fall. Thanks.