The first snow falls like a whisper,
a soft touch that blankets the ground,
each flake unique,
carrying the magic of winter
in its crystal embrace.
The world transforms,
a landscape of muted hues,
and the air is crisp,
filled with the scent of pine.
Footprints mark the passage,
traces of wanderers seeking joy
in the chill, the frost-kissed air,
while the silence deepens,
a quiet peace
in this season of reflection
and warmth in the heart.

• Lanford Wilson