This has got to be one of the earliest first snowfalls (of any accumulation) that I can remember in this coastal town. However, it did not add up to the predicted 6-8 inches we were supposed to get. I'm not sure if I'm disappointed by this or not. On one hand, the first snow is always really exciting somehow; on the other, we're no doubt going to be getting plenty of snow over the next 6 months or more. The storm came with some gusty winds, which woke me up throughout the night, gave me strange dreams, and blew free our string of prayer flags on the shed, carrying our prayers to the heavens.

Our backyard this morning, Megunticook River winding through

My husband and I were entertained this morning when the snow plow went by. The kids across the street having a snowball fight were probably just as effective at scooping up the meager layer of snow in the street as the plow--but I have no doubt that the plow guy just really wanted to get out there and play around and make some noise, necessary or not.

The snow does contrast beautifully with the remaining fall leaves, reminding us that we're still in that time of seasonal transition, on the cusp between fall and winter. And, appropriately, between the living and the dead: tomorrow night is Hallowe'en (or Samhain, pagan new year), a liminal time when the wall between the living and the dead is thinnest. Thus, the arrival of ghosts and demons that continue to haunt our neighborhoods, to be appeased by treats. This snow fall was just the precursor of shifts and changes to come.

Night of first snow fall
I dreamed a new house, and owls:
transitions coming.