It’s Christmas Day in Saint Paul. The snow has piled up along the roads in a scene right out of Bedford Falls, though more still than the frantic rush to life that George Bailey discovered just on time. Everyone has settled in to whatever they’ve prepared for, ready for a day buried in snow and memories. You can make of it what you want, like most things in life – a fluffy blanket of stillness or the weight of time falling around you. Both are good, in their own way.