There is something about waking up to a light sprinkling of snow that seems to lift the spirit. Though you're toes are cold, your heart is warm to witness the delights that fresh, unmarred snow brings.
Large flakes of snow fall gently from the sky, refracting the thin light of an overcast morning like so many diamonds. Slowly they drift down and settle, like tiny features of crystal birds. Every so often, if you're lucky, a perfectly formed snowflake will land ever so lightly on your jacket, and you can see every perfect arc of ice before it vanishes, melting to water against the warmth of your coat.
And you are reminded then as never before, all things in life, especially the perfect and the beautiful, are ephemeral, and you should consider yourself lucky for having witnessed it at all.
I love the first fall of snow.