There is something extraordinarily beautiful about winter in New Hampshire. It's too complex to be squeezed in a few words. But you see it all around, in the white/blue contrast, the calmness of the falling snow or in the intricate ice designs.
I didn't like it in my first years here. The commute was hard, scraping ice from the windshield in bitter wind was not my favorite thing to do and ice fishing did not appeal to me. But I gradually got used to it and actually started to like it. And in the past few years another dimension was added: fly fishing can be great, even in the middle of a snowstorm.
Even cleaning the ice off the guides or the line has its own charm. In Arizona you just dip the rod in the water. Here is repetitive manual work.
We are still under winter weather here in new Hampshire, but it doesn't feel like before. There are no long winter nights spent tying flies and dreaming about the sunny days with abundant hatches that are so far apart. Fly fishing does not die in the winter. You just need add an extra layer...