Falling Snow

 I always thought that falling snow didn't make a sound.

Creeping up on us until we're aware enough to notice it.

But that's not right. As I sit outside, huddled under blankets and layers, I realize that snow does have sound.

The soft "snuff" as a flake hits the inch of other flakes. 

Creaking of the trees as the weight of snow adds to it's burden.

Unnatural quiet of area houses and streets as people warm by fireplaces, watching. 

Occassional bird chirp as he sings to all who will hear about this uncommon sight. 

How utterly, indescribable the whole scene is. 

It almost seems fake.

Like there's a huge machine planted on the roof, blowing fake snow for dramatic effect.  I wait to hear a director yell, "Cut!", but no...this is not make-believe.  This is real.  

Scenes like this one cannot be fabricated.  

In a few hours, the streets will be swept clean.

Bootprints will mar the clean canvas.

White will turn into sludgy gray. 

But for now, my soul wonders at the innocence, the wonder, the beauty of falling snow. 

December 13, 2020