I love autumn so much, but there is something special about the very first snowfall.
By the time the snow comes, all the leaves are brown and dead, and the grass has seen better days. The trees are bare, and the clouds loom day after day. So when the first snow happens, it always makes me think of a little sprinkle of fairy dust dancing over everything. It is so white and sparkles like fresh magic ready to take place. The snow reminds me of a blank canvas, ready to be painted however you want.
The snow falls slowly, and just like that, magic is everywhere. The bare trees now are pieces of art with icicles hanging down, as if they are tired and can’t stand up. The leaves are covered with the fresh coat of magic for as far as one can see. And just like that, as if someone snapped their fingers, white is everywhere. Twinkling, sparkling, and ready to play in.
The first snowfall has always been my favorite. There is just something about the way it dances down, even if it is a fast dance, it makes me feel so happy. The leftovers of summer is being covered with a beautiful blanket of fresh canvas and I always feel refreshed and ready. Ready for what? I’m not sure, but it leaves me feeling like I can take on the world.
Sometimes the wind bites my nose, and I’m reminded to put a scarf on next time. Sometimes the wind howls as if it is angry and full of rage, and the snow dances a powerful and strong dance as it makes it’s way to the ground. No matter all these variables though, I go outside, and just breath. I take a few minutes and really appreciate nature and the work of art that is being presented to me.
Sometimes the first snow comes in as a storm, and I picture Mother Nature being quite furious.
She summons the clouds and the snow and gets out her rage in the form of an incredible white out. I love to watch it out my window. I imagine what she may have been angry about, or what was on her mind. Sometimes my mind feels like a snowstorm, and I feel like I can relate to her.
Every year since I became a mother I have always taken my babies outside for the first snow. I always wanted them to feel the magic that happens when the leaves are slowly covered, and there is snow for as far as you can see. Maybe it’s childish of me. In fact, it probably is. But, the way I see it is, life is too short to completely grow up. Why not believe in a little bit of magic? Otherwise, it’s just brutal, cold, wind whipping at your face and snow punching your body. Who wants to see it like that? I see it as art. I see it as a poem playing out for me as if I’m at a show. A dramatic dance even when the wind is strong enough.
I wanted my children to appreciate that moment when one season changes to the next.
I think it’s important to appreciate change and how it happens. Learning to allow one thing to leave, and open the door for the next stage. This is a life lesson all put on by the weather. There is so much to learn by simply taking a deep breath outside and feeling the brisk, coldness of the wet magic that is floating down.
Do you love the first snow? How do you feel about it?