First Snow

We are having the first real snow of the year. Our cabin is snug and with the help of our friends, we have a good supply of wood for our stove. The outside temperatures have been hovering in the - 14 to - 16 C range for the last several days. The road into town is not really passable right now, so we have been spending our time reading and writing. We have also been playing host to a few of the birds over-wintering here - and a small, young red squirrel that comes to the cabin door in the morning for a handout from our stash of hazelnuts, or a piece of freshly baked sourdough bread. We have named her "Dancer" because, well, she dances as she waits in the new snow for us to notice her. The first snow is always a special time, a magic time as we all adjust to the new season. Which reminds me of one of my favorite poems by Morningstar which I am posting here:

FIRST SNOW

It came quietly while I slept
In the cold dark hours of night
A gathering of frozen droplets
High above the cabin and
Mountains near
They took their time,
Transformations always do,
But there were those
Impatient to begin
And if I had been looking
I would have seen them
Drifting softly to the ground
Ephemeral loners, one here, one there
Soft, white crystalline flakes
Disappearing on a stalk of dried grass
Out of sight on the shingle roof
It takes more than one
To change the world


And in a rush
They came
In drifts and flurries
To dust the trees with powder
Cover the frozen ground,
And the jumbled pile of cedar logs
Like icing on a cake
When I opened my eyes
In the first dim light of morning
Everything had changed
Yesterday’s bare birch branches
Now sparkled, interwoven
Like a fine filigree lace
Evergreen boughs dipped low
Under the weight of October snow
That hides the unsightly
From my eyes
Hushed in a blanket
Of pristine white
Autumn turned to winter
In the space of a night

...P. L. Morningstar
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