The First Snowfall of the Season

If you were to ask me, there is something serenely satisfying about the first snowfall of the season. So often, as it has tonight, it first appears after the night has fallen. It’s audience always seems selective: The fools, the lovers, and the dreamers. To those very individuals, who thanklessly work for unrequited praise, the slowly dancing flakes provide the inspiration for the joy they bring to themselves and others.

Children are the next to sense its presence. A child instinctively knows when the snow will fall. They search the Heavens for days before its eventual arrival. This change in the seasons provides new opportunities for children. They eagerly await the total transformation of everything that they know to become unrecognizable under a field of white.

This happens so quickly that it makes children believe in the power of magic. Of course, the irony being that they are not wrong. For these tiny crystals hold a far greater ability than what they should. So much so, that the only way to accurately describe it would be, in fact, magic.

Which, I guess, brings this to me. I am but a simple fool, a hopeless lover, and an eternal dreamer. I gaze towards the endless black pitch of night to watch these silent guardians of the stars slowly fall to the earth. Bringing with them a story that began before our first collective breath and will conclude long after we are but a dream of the cosmos.