First Snow

When first snow falls, covering the land, layering branch, coating trees, erasing textures, the year is not slowly ending but all is gently renewed. Tracks are limited to the moment, held for a few hours only, a temporary canvas that soon will be no more. Hoof prints lead into dusted woods where brambles form archways into winter. The deer stops and doesn’t flee. Eyes move beyond bracken, soft and warm under steamy breath. Standing put, saving strength, danger neglected, we’re wrapped in elemental quiet, together on our own, each on a crossing path. Sharing stillness in a pause that has naturally come in the flow of the seasons, allowing us to take our time. 

A reprieve that silences all but small birds’ chirp and scatter, their softest wings lit as they cross the forest above. 

There is joy in this remade world, possibilities appear now the vision is simpler. Nature’s detail speaks more clearly in cold air. 

Later, when the sun reappears it feels as if the whole land was smiling. 

As day is leaving, sun’s palette is rinsed and pigments flood sky, water and soil to colour nightly dreams.