When I went to bed, the temperature hovered around 50 degrees, raindrops were falling.  Almost too warm inside for the covers. Sometime during the dark hours that changed, the sound of drops on the roof ceased and snuggling into the quilt felt good!

Miss Lily woke and wanted out at a little after three this morning. I turned on the porch light and opened the door to a blast of cold air and the vision of tiny dancing snowflakes.

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I know the ground is too warm for snow to stay, or probably even to see once daylight breaks. More likely, they will change back to rain by then.

For some reason, as I stood inside watching them fall I felt a sense of renewal, peace; touched by the beauty of that silent multitude.

Having been told all my life that snowflakes like people are never exactly alike, I find them a source of wonder, and the first snow always a moment of awe and delight.

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