First Snow of the Season!

The snow falls with thick, wet thuds on the roof of the shoddy plastic shed. I can hear it, thwop thwop, through the window, falling heavily from the metal roof, and I can smell the spongy air, saturated with winter.


I sleep fitfully for the noise and dream of frozen rivers and mulled cider and catching snowflakes on the tip of my tongue.


In the morning, the sun doesn't rise exactly. Instead, the dampened glow of a frosted morning blossoms slowly through cracks in the window shades, and I know, just know, that there is fresh snow outside.