There is a calm, nature-napping -- a stillness, captured by a gray light that I call "twilight dawn".  It happens when the first snow exits the skies and settles on the ground.

Traffic, slow or  non-existent, adds to the stillness and quiet. Layers of snow resting on   skylights create eerie shadows below. Frosted windows sparkle, like tiny diamonds in a glacier's wake, as crystal patterns cling to the cold window panes.

The first snow. Nature waves her magic wand, and like a metamorphosis, the earth is reborn. Snow-laden tree branches bow to the ground under its weight.  Brown tree trunks, standing tall, add contrast, peering mysteriously through encrusted branches. Roof top angles are transformed into soft curves and swirls. Winter mud and yellowed grass hide beneath the blazing white carpet. All is white, all is clean and bright.

Morning wakens to the sounds of chipping juncos, chirping downy woodpeckers, and  singing sparrows seeking sanctuary and food as they flit through the brush. The constant cawing of cautious crows and squeaking starlings announce their arrival, the scene  changes into an old-time movie with black-on-white images.  Birdbaths, now frozen over,  appear to be small snow igloos next to the  white-capped feeders hanging motionless in the morning light. Soon the ground is riddled with footprints  growing larger and larger  as the rising sun's rays melt away nature's white canvas.  Human imprints relate tales of postmen,  paperboys and other early risers making their rounds.

Traffic increases, adhering to the path made by the brave hearts before them. One after another they stay on line like miniature rail cars following the track, careful not to swerve into the oncoming traffic. Side rails cut off into snowbound driveways and icy corners.  Cars slow as they approach intersections, hoping to inch onward, for stopping could be fatal.

Late risers, and the not-so-brave attack the white intruder with shovels and scoops in a symphony of  plastic and metal scraping  concrete and asphalt. Children giggle, as they search for boots, gloves and scarves. Snow angels , battle forts  and snowmen sculptures once again fill front yards. Parents listen to radio broadcasts for school closures, weather reports and accidents. Phone lines are a buzz with  the news, while anxious parents seek out babysitters and alternative care should the schools  remain closed.

As the day passes and the sun rises higher in the sky, the snow begins to melt.  The earth warms itself, absorbing the life giving moisture as it soaks up the melting crystals. The snow thuds to the ground as it softens under the sun and tree branches slowly lift up encompassing the warm rays.

A bald eagle swoops down over a newly cleared lot seeking a meal.  Finding none he perches in a nearby cottonwood like a monarch on his throne surveying his kingdom. A lone squirrel, its body kept warm by a fluffy tail, squats with paws perched across its belly, like a tiny Buddha, eyes drooping, as it drifts in and out of sleep while basking in the sun.

Rooftop blankets shrink as water spills over the eaves into growing puddles below. Traffic is back to normal, tires swishing through the wet streets, sending sprays of muddied water onto sidewalks and boulevards.

Children, faces alive with the afterglow of their snowy adventure cuddle together and watch cartoons.  The memory-laden smell of wet mittens permeates the air as boots, gloves and scarves are  hung to dry. Parents are once again checking schedules and weather reports only to find that the storm has passed and tomorrow's forecast is for rain.

The first snow has come and gone, leaving behind a day full of memories.

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