Without Snow

It's not the same without the snow, since I have moved out west. I could not walk, I could not drive; no more snow was my quest. But then I came to realize the beauty of the snow. I miss the flakes and their soft fall, but how was I to know? Out here, it rains and rains and rains, the winter season through. Maybe, sometimes, one day in ten, there is a glimpse of blue. Well, here I'm stuck, rest of my life. without that wintry joy. Just buckets, barr'ls, oceans of rain and, really, it does cloy.