First Snow

The first snow of the year arrives like a whispered invitation, sweeping over the country with a hush that softens every edge. The sound is a pleasant, soft white noise as the snow falls.  

The first snowfall always feels like a gentle return to something long forgotten. The world hushes, as if holding its breath, while flakes drift down like fragments of old memories. Streetlights blur into soft halos, and every sound—footsteps, laughter, even the wind—seems softened by the white stillness. In the lane, crunching boots mark a slow, ceremonial procession through the world made fresh again. The air tastes of peppermint and rain, a clean sweetness that calls you back to a childhood you thought you’d left behind. 

The first snow sends children of all ages spilling outdoors. Laughter echoes through the cold air. Mittens flail, boots crunch, and every flake feels like a tiny miracle drifting just for them.

The hills and fields become an adventure—sled tracks carve silver trails down small hills, and snowballs fly like a meteor shower in the night’s sky. Someone shouts, “Hey, everyone, watch this.” If God is watching over everyone, it is an easy trip to the emergency room.