As of yesterday, it is winter in Laramie, according to my definition.
What is my definition, you ask? Well, I say that winter starts when we get the first snowfall that makes people drive in an unreasonable manner. For some reason, people drive rather strange very early in the year. They either seem to be utter maniacs without any concern for the ice on the road, or they seem to be overly cautious, being outrun by the old woman in her walker.
I tend to be sort of middle-of-the-road, though I am probably a little more cautious than I would be in similar conditions later in the year. It is quite an experience to be sandwiched between the two extremes like that. I'm constantly on the lookout for someone who thinks they can dart across an intersection or, alternatively, who is going so slow that they appear stopped without measurement with expensive physics apparati.
Of course, the slow people probably think I drive like a maniac, and the maniacs probably think I'm a little old lady.