The First Snowfall is Always Poetic

A short and sweet dispatch from winter wonderland

It’s snowing in Montreal. Thick, heavy snowflakes. I drove my husband to work this morning. While we were paused in traffic, the driver in the Bell telecommunications van to our right took a photo of the snow-covered trees. He turned toward us, and my husband mouthed “C’est beau.” The driver smiled and nodded his head.

Beauty is everywhere. Ugliness too. Our job is to notice them. What we do with our observations is up to us. Sometimes noticing is enough. Sometimes, it’s not.

The first snowfall is always poetic.

This is why I’m leaving you with a poem. Short and sweet this week.

Take good care xox