First Snow

. . . of the season.

This morning, nobody thought we'd really get snow.

Then, by early afternoon, there were certain signs that the snow was starting—a few flakes on Emma the garage dog . . .

. . . and on Melody's face . . .

. . . and Melody's body. . .

Cupcake hasn't noticed yet. As long as she has hay to eat, nothing bothers her.

Spotz doesn't much like the cold wet stuff.

Little Ruby Sherwood, the daycare dog, doesn't like it either.

More snow accumulates on Emma . . .

. . . and on the roses.

The house looks bleak as the snow falls.

So does the field across the road.

By three, snow was sticking to the deck and the backyard trees . . .

. . . and to the front yard. You can hardly see the field across the road.

Smith Mountain should be out there somewhere, but I can't see it. Can you?

By 5:15, the house looked like this:

And so begins the first snow of the season.

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