  I miss snowboarding. It never takes long. As soon as the warm spring breezes start to blow, I think, "Hmmm, it's nice outside, but I sure miss snowboarding. " So I pour over snowboard mags and dream about gear. I visualize every trick I wish I could do, and in my dreams I can do them. Before long, we will start watching the videos over and over, and will spend too much on this year's sickest video this fall.
I will plan trips, talk about runs of the past. I will camp, I will hike, I will enjoy summer, but the stories around the campfire will very likely turn to snowboarding and how awesome the upcoming winter will be. I've figured out recently that I do not despise much for weather. I love it when it rains. I love thunder and lighting. I love snow that gently falls, I love it when the snow blows sideways. I'll take a sunny sky any day, but they will always think of winter, and how that sun melted away my snow. Melting snow is one of the saddest things ever. From soft rolling blankets of purity it melts down to small puddles of black mud, streaking itself with dirt stains as it goes.
Dirty snowbanks slowly melt away from the sides of the roads, and it always seems like so long until the ground is refreshed with green grass. I love the smells of spring, but it is always tainted with the saddest of the melting snow. I can't wait to snowboard. 
