The first fall of snow is not only an event, it is a magical event. You go to bed in one kind of world and wake up in another quite different, and if this is not enchantment then where is it to be found? ~J.B. Priestley, “First Snow,” Apes and Angels, 1928
I’ll know I am growing old when I no longer thrill to the first snow of the season. ~Lady Bird Johnson (1912–2007)
Thank goodness for the first snow, it was a reminder — no matter how old you became and how much you’d seen, things could still be new if you were willing to believe they still mattered. ~ Candace Bushnell, Lipstick Jungle, 2005
He brewed his tea in a blue china pot, poured it into a chipped white cup with forget-me-nots on the handle, and dropped in a dollop of honey and cream. He sat by the window, cup in hand, watching the first snow fall. “I am,” he sighed deeply, “contented as a clam. I am a most happy man.” ~Ethel Pochocki (1925–2010), Wildflower Tea, 1993
Tonight, as I opened my window
And looked at the far away sky,
I breathed in the air, cold and frosty,
And gazed at the stars up so high.
And, then, I was suddenly conscious
That snowflakes were swirling around—
The very first snow of the season!—
Fast falling, without any sound.
~Gertrude Tooley Buckingham, “The First Snow of the Season” (1940s)
This forenoon it snowed pretty hard for some hours, the first snow of any consequence thus far. I go out at 2½ P.M. just as it ceases. Now is the time before the wind rises, or the sun has shone, to go forth and see the snow on the trees. The clouds have lifted somewhat, but are still spitting snow a little. The snow has fallen so gently that it forms an upright wall on the slenderest twig. The agreeable maze which the branches make is more obvious than ever, and every twig thus laden is as still as the hillside itself. The pitch pines are covered with soft globular masses. The effect of the snow is to press down the forest, confound it with the grasses, and create a new surface to the earth above, shutting us in with it, and we go along somewhat like moles through our galleries. The sight of the pure and trackless road, with branches and trees supporting snowy burdens bending over it on each side, would tempt us to begin life again. The snow lies handsomely on the shrub-oaks, like a coarse braiding in the air. They have so many small and zigzag twigs. ~Henry David Thoreau, journal, 1853 December 26th [a little altered
The snow had begun in the gloaming,
And busily all the night
Had been heaping field and highway
With a silence deep and white…
~James Russell Lowell, “The First Snow-Fall,” 1847 [If you ever get a chance, read this poem in its entirety. It’s a real goose-bumping heart-tugger.