November 10, 2013

The First Snow

The defining events of each season are always exciting: when I hear the peepers I know it's spring, and the first robin also thrills; summer's height is marked by the first ripe garden tomato; the first apple is an announcement of the coming fall. For winter, there's nothing that points to its arrival, sooner or later, than the first snowfall of the season; in my last post "The Larder is Full" I announced I was ready for winter; this morning I woke in the dim light and saw that something was different about it: everything was covered with a light coating of snow. The pumpkins decorating the front steps had white caps, mixing colors of fall and winter.

A few orange flowers still grace the honeysuckle by the front door; this morning along with the leaves, they're topped with snow.

The pond appears dramatically black within a white landscape.

Golden grasses contrast brightly with white.

Other forms, like the pumpkins, attract caps of snow. Here the dark dried heads of bee balm have their white helmets. The sky this morning was a beautiful pink-gray-pale yellow, and though light-filled seemed almost heavier than the ground.

Snow also catches in the interstices of branches, as though building new structures.

Sometimes there's a benefit to not cutting back the perennial garden, as here when I have the ochre leaves of Amsonia glowing in front of the snow draped honeysuckle.

And in the back yard, a reminder that summer will return.


  1. I can feel the cold, wet snow. The yellowish lighting in the photographs is outstanding. So is that green-black pond with the snowy trees reflected into its depths. Beautiful landscape.

    1. It's been surprising cold for early November, Cecelia, an early taste of winter. Happily, I do live in a beautiful landscape, one that's lovely in white.