I woke up yesterday morning to a beautiful blanket of white. Being born and raised in the Midwest snow is as normal as breathing. We know once Fall has been announced the white stuff is possibly going to make an appearance at any given moment. Fall and Winter kind of fight for their season, Spring and Summer also try to fight for a spot, we can have all four seasons in one day! But that first snow is magical no matter when it decides to show up. Being up so early, the virgin snow is untouched by humans. No one has desecrated its prestine crispness. There is a peacefulness that hangs in the air. The trees seem almost happy with their new embellishment, majestically extending their limbs showing off how the white improves their dull brown bark. Every house looks like a perfect scene from a Norman Rockwell painting. It is all wonderful when there is no place to go. Soon the sun will warm the earth, humans will awake and deface the perfect vision, mud and muck will erase my once perfect memory for a moment. Until the next time.

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