First Snow

It doesn't matter if you're young or old.
Rise from your drowsy slumbers and black-and-white dreams, just like every other morning.
But there's something different today, on this bright and whimsical sunrise.
Something fresh and new and beautiful, like a new beginning.
Snow.
It won't take you long to drag your battered figure from bed today.
In some gloriously subconscious state of childish glee, giddly peer out the window,
Fingers curiously peeking over the sill and eyes fixed on the glimmering flakes.
A smile stretches across your face. Not a grandiose or wide or extravagant grin,
Just a big smile, and a happy one, at that.
Hot cocoa with whipped cream and a few jumbo marshmallows is waiting at the table.
Bright new snowpants and puffies are waiting on the coat hooks.
Flames are waiting in the fire.
And the snow is waiting for you dance in it, for it, with it.
It's winter in Vermont, and there is no stopping it.
Bundle up and make a snow angel, and if you ever move away...

Never forget.
Never forget that moment, only once a year, unpredictably meeting hopeful snow through dusty glass.
Never forget cocoa and fires and snowmen (and how the mailman always compliments them) and smiles and joy and laughter and love.
Never forget that moment, that beautiful, magical moment.
Oh, magic isn't real, you say?
I suppose you've never witnessed waking up to the first beautiful, glistening snow in Vermont on what would have been any other plain old day.

So,
It doesn't matter if you're young or old.
Go make a snow angel.
Now.
The seasons may pass, but
I think you and I
both know by now
That it will be there forever.