There’s something to be said about that first snowfall of the year. Actually, I feel like in my case there are many things to be said about the first snowfall of the year.
On the one hand, it’s welcome. The first snow is always welcome. It’s reassuring in the way that the return of the seasons reminds you that the world works, that God hasn’t forgotten about winter and imagine that! winter came around again-just on time. It’s reassuring in the sense that as a life-long Michigander there is something magical about that first snow. I take a little pride in the fact that I know a thing or two about the weather that Floridians or Hawaiians can only dream about.
On the other hand, I see this first lovely snowfall and I’m reminded of what’s coming. Because my problem with snow doesn’t happen in December. It doesn’t happen in January. The problem creeps up in February, and continues on into March, and oftentimes continues on into April, for cryin out loud!
So, for today I’ll try to enjoy it for what it is. I’ll try to remember that each snowflake that falls today is different than any snowflake that has ever fallen in all the history of winters. I’ll relish the look on Sophie’s face when she took her first puzzled look at the white puffs falling from the sky. I’ll keep in mind the things I do love about winter-hot chocolate, soup, books, and fireplaces, Christmas, and New Year and baking. And this year I’ll enjoy a cute little girl in her cute little snow suit, in awe of the miracle of snow.
I’ll leave you with one of my most favorite poems, in honor of this first snowfall.
Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.