DAY_1
The first snow of the season is always a thing of wonder, gentle white powder
reflecting the streetlight’s glow as it drifts lazily to earth. It’s a rarity to
be cherished in a part of the country where cold winters are rarely guaranteed.
Children emerge from their homes, laughing as they pelt each other with
snowballs made of just as much mud and grass as they are actual snow. They seize
this moment of joy with the knowledge that by noon tomorrow any proof of its
existence will have already melted into the ground.
Winter Log / Summer Log by Nastasya Kistemaker, page 2