The Season’ First Snowfall

   It snowed almost all weekend, the light fluffy stuff that picture postcard makers like to capture. Two years ago I wrote this article about the season’s first snow, so I’ll post it as I gaze out on our winter wonderland.

    There’s something about the first snow that always excites me.  When I look out the window and see those first flakes wafting down from above, I get that cozy-fireside-with-hot- chocolate feeling.  At this stage even a mini blizzard is welcome!

    Snow.  It comes from heaven.  It’s clean; it’s pure.  Who among us, watching the first flakes fall, hasn’t found herself humming snatches of the dear old hymn, “Now wash me and I shall be whiter than snow”?

I think of Christmas, of “walking in a winter wonderland” – first-footing it through the dazzling whiteness, admiring the hoar frost on every tree.


There’s something about a new fall of snow that comforts me.  It tells me that gardening is done, that all my brown-thumb mistakes of summer will be covered for six months by a fluffy blanket.  Then spring will afford another new beginning.


It makes me thankful. When I hear those icy winds rattle the windows, I can’t help but sigh a grateful prayer for a cozy home, for warm winter wear when I must be outside, for a reliable vehicle.  I have been so blessed!*


It lifts me out of the rat-race; it speaks to me of relaxing evenings spent in the warmth of my familiar surroundings.  My thoughts go to craft projects that have waited for months, jigsaw puzzles, writing ideas that have been on my mind.  Now I will have TIME!  Now I will have to stay home and get some of this stuff done!


Yes, I know it’s partly an illusion.  I know there will be times when I must go out for various reasons, and will not appreciate the cold, the ice, the slush.  I know that after two days stuck in the house, I’ll rush off somewhere–anywhere–just to get away.  I know that if I’d been born back in “the good old days,” when families were snowed in for months, I may well have gone mad!


Illusion or not, there’s enough child left in me that I love the first snows of winter.  Like a child, I love to dress up warm after a heavy snow and go shovel our walk.  I enjoy my two days at home before cabin fever sets in.


And of course I really enjoy the last snow of winter!  Usually by then signs of spring are everywhere: the sky’s a brighter blue; the woods are a soft misty green; birds are singing in the trees.  By then my perennials are peeking through, the bedding plants I’ve started are all getting lanky in my window sills, and I’m anxious to get out and dig in the dirt.

    Thank God for the changing seasons!

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