While searching for a photo on my computer this morning, I came across the one above, taken in my front yard in Brooklyn, most likely during the winter on 1982-'83, based on the size of our beloved pooch Frosty.

Seeing it again brought into focus how my attitude toward snow has changed over the years. Especially after this year's glut of the white stuff.

It snows in New York, of that there is no doubt. And it gets cold. But huge snowstorms and bitter cold like we see here in the Great Lakes region aren't nearly as common.

The fact is, when we got a snowfall like the one in the photo, we took photos! When my best friend Mark came over and asked me to help dig out his first car -- the brown 1982 Honda Accord we drove to the Village each week to buy the new NME, rocking Gregory Isaacs' sublime "Night Nurse" as the tires thrummed on the grated surface of the Brooklyn Bridge -- I grabbed a shovel with a smile.

Flash forward to 2007-'08 when all my shoveling came with a grumble and talk of snow was a daily frustration. After weeks on end of seeing the increasingly filthy white blanket everywhere I wondered how we'd survive. But, it's nearly the end of May and here we are.

And now that I'm done moaning about the weather last winter, I'll admit that on at least one occasion, early in the season, the snow looked so lovely, draped on the canopies of the trees that I reached for the camera.