This is a response to the prompt above.

I’ve visited several American states, including Nevada, Georgia, New York, and Illinois, mostly during winter or spring, and it was always cold then. In this blog, I’ll focus on these three states known for their cold weather: Vermont, Oregon, and New Mexico.

Cold weather has always felt like a paradox to me—both isolating and strangely beautiful. In the city, whether in downtown Portland, Oregon, or in Burlington’s parks in Vermont, the cold transforms public spaces into quiet, contemplative places. The expansive brick plaza in Burlington’s downtown seems nearly frozen in time, with people scattered across it like fragments of different stories passing through the same gray afternoon. The crisp air, especially after a brief rain, the damp pavement, and the dramatic winter sky at noon in Portland evoke a sense of stillness that encourages me to slow down and notice details I might otherwise overlook. Something humbling about cold weather in urban areas: it reminds me how small we are amid towering buildings, shifting clouds (where the sun plays hide-and-seek), and changing seasons.

At the same time, cold weather feels more personal, as shown in the last image, which looks out the window of a luxurious Vermont home. The thin layer of snow on the grass and the bare trees creates a calmness that feels deeply intimate, almost nostalgic. Although winter can seem harsh, it also offers moments of comfort—the warmth of indoor light against a gray sky, the silence after a snowfall, and the feeling of retreat from the noise of daily life. As someone who grew up in the tropics, I don’t always enjoy the cold itself, but I value the mood it brings: reflective, peaceful, and authentic in ways that warmer seasons sometimes lack.

Sometimes it does get cold in Los Angeles, California, but I wouldn’t consider this city among the coldest I’ve lived in or visited.