A wierd description of the first snow with a long uninteresting title, because I felt like it

December fifth. I walked outside and looked up at the sky. The sky is the one thing that has both changed the most and the least. On clear nights I look up and see the familiar constellations and, best of all, the moon in her many phases. I don't know that many star constellations, but occasionally I can find the big and little dippers but the easiest thing for me to find is Orion. In this way the sky has not changed a bit and reminds me of home. But to every coin there is a flip side, and in this case that is that many days are at least partly cloudy if not mostly cloudy or overcast. This is similar in a way to Walla Wallas weather, but in some ineffable way it's different.

Most days seem to be a little cold here, but that probably has more to do with the fact that it's winter than it does anything else. The fifth was not very cold in my opinion, at least not at the start. When I went outside the sky was pale blue with puffs of gray hanging in the wind. After lunch I decided to simply stand outside. I felt it get colder and windier. I looked at the sky and saw that the color had faltered. The pale blue had given up the last of its strength and had collapsed into a somber gray. I closed my eyes and felt the wind nip at my face and bite at my ears. My nose began to run from the cold and I sniffed to clear it. When I opened my eyes I saw just the faintest whisper of snow. A single snowflake that was falling just past arms reach. It was small and feeble. It seemed to enjoy its new found freedom as it danced left and right on its way back to Earth. I stood there a few minutes longer and watched as but a few more of its snowflake bretheren followed suit. They are far and few between, but each one danced for joy in the wind. Remembering my work, I returned to my room and to my desk.

A few hours later I received a phone call. I had been hypnotized by my laptop and the phone call had broken its spell. I looked around my room while I talked. As I said good bye and hung up I looked out my room's window. I was amazed. The snowflake I had seen earlier had brought his friends, family, and even snowflakes he did not know. There must be some place where the snowflakes are being massacred by the sun because the way that they jumped for joy and hugged the ground showed that this was their safe place, a haven for them.

In the morning, many of them had moved on to safer, colder places, but may had stayed to rest from their journey. They slowly left throughout the day, and while I will miss them, I know that they will return again soon.