In addition to writing four violin concertos dedicated to each of the seasons, Antonio Vivaldi wrote a poem for each season too.
Winter doesn't technically start for another few weeks, but I think the current weather makes it appropriate to turn to Vivaldi's "Winter":
Allegro non molto
Shivering, frozen mid the frosty snow in biting, stinging winds;
running to and fro to stamp one's icy feet, teeth chattering in the bitter chill.
To rest contentedly beside the hearth, while those outside are drenched by pouring rain.
We tread the icy path slowly and cautiously, for fear of tripping and falling.
Then turn abruptly, slip, crash on the ground and, rising, hasten on across the ice lest it cracks up.
We feel the chill north winds coarse through the home despite the locked and bolted doors…
this is winter, which nonetheless brings its own delights.
Those are comforting thoughts, at least for when you're back indoors.
Does the snow make you feel playful? Try Tomita's take on Debussy:
Hushed and reverent?
Or are you struggling through the storm as best you can? Here's your dance: