It’s here. Finally. Snow. We’ve been waiting for it, expecting it, watching the skies and the weather reports—this is Wisconsin after all—and it’s come. It came in the night and transformed our yards, covered up any leftover leaf piles and our oddly green grass. All is changed. All looks new. All is covered over, fresh with promise. Transformation is beautiful. The snow is beautiful, at this moment, early in the morning, as I lounge on my couch and write. I love the snow, from inside. I love the idea of snow. But later, when I step outside to shovel or scrap off the car, or when the kids and the…