The aroma of hazelnut coffee and buttered pancakes fill my nose, exploding into a burst of hunger and contentment. As I hurriedly run down the stairs and into the mundanely decorated kitchen, my mother's sweet voice softly utters, 'Good morning.' The light of the morning sun seeps through the curtains and dances around the room gaining my attention. As breakfast is being eaten, joke-inducing laughter and plans for the day consume the conversation. There is nothing better than those winter Sunday breakfasts.

White sparkling snow displayed across the town. Freshly fallen from the previous night, it mimics its offenders. Intoxicatingly beautiful, we descend on the day's adventures on the never ending trail of snow. Arriving at our destination, crisp and sullen wind pierce our faces as we walk toward the mall doors. Warm and comfortable heat greet us and are immediately relieved. There is nothing better than those winter Sunday afternoons.

Exhausted from the long day of shopping, we come home ready to relax. Hot chocolate is being prepared with the accompanying mount of deliciously baked sugar cookies. My mother and I settle down on the sofa with our edible sweets. The television vaguely lights up the living room with moving images of 'The Little Mermaid' and 'Bambi.' Outside, the snow starts to slowly, but heavily, fall to the ground, creating several new inches of the white fluff. Today is almost at its close and our eyes are almost shut. There is nothing better than those wonderful winter Sundays.