Buckwheat Sourdough Donuts

The first snow of the season greeted us this morning, blanketing our mountain town under a thin, cold, and icy film.   Grey clouds hung low against the hills, revealing the peaks only by the fleeting whims of a chilly autumn breeze. Each year when the snows first arrive, we celebrate - last year they arrived on the last day of summer, and we poured ourselves mugs of mulled wine.   This year, the snow seems late, but the snow gods are unpredictable, even capricious.   And late as the first snow seems this year, this morning was cold, dark, and utterly perfect.