It is October 24. It is snowing outside. Not just snowing, but actually sticking to the ground snowing. The snow is coming down in a torrent. I stepped outside to see the first snow. Not big, soft, white, fluffy flakes, but fast, tiny, cold blasts of ice. You can see the white flecks as they tumult to the ground. They sting my face when I look up at them. Rivulets of cold, wet snow are dribbling down the back of my neck. 
The ground is wet and sloppy with the mud now and the street is slick with it. The horses clip-clop along in it, but the sound is muted. No one is about. Cars swoosh by and leave a trail on the pavement.
When I chose Romania as a place to spend a year, one of the criteria was weather. It is supposed to be warmer here than it is in Michigan, but that has not been the case so far. I packed two umbrellas for this trip and they are getting plenty of use. It rains and drizzles here, much more so than I expected.
As the morning turns to afternoon, the snow continues, leaving a white blanket over the mountains. It is really lovely, but so early.
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