First snow of the year...

I love waking up to the first snowfall of the year.

A cup of coffee, a cigarette, and those few moments before the world wakes always feel like they're just for me.

My current home has become unreccognizable as I slept.

In these first moments before any bird has lighted or breeze blown through to disturb the delicate piles of powder resting gently like long white worms draping across every horizontal surface, save the ground, which has been invaded by sleeping herds of white animals, big and small. Everywhere.

I have to be quite as I sip my coffee, puff my cigarette. I don't want to wake anyone. Not because I'm polite, because I'm selfish. I want this moment all to myself.