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Written by Karen D. Swim
The snow fell slowly at first like tiny origami doves floating toward the ground. I watched as they fluttered past my window seeming to dance upon the air to a happy little tune. Wings spread as each flake tumbled and spun until finding its landing. It then fell faster as though someone had opened giant down pillows from the clouds, a flurry of white rained down falling quickly clinging to the grass covering it in a blanket of white.
Dancing flakes from heaven sounded winter’s clarion call. Six weeks ahead of schedule, she arrived when she pleased. Perhaps she would dance with autumn again, but that was her secret to share. Today she is here, her majestic robe of white spread across the city.
My novel in progress now stands at more than 27,000 words. Like the wind that carries the snowflakes I have danced and twirled wherever the story took me. It is not the story I thought I would tell, but I quickly learned I was not in control. I had an idea nearly a year ago rooted in a kernel of truth. It sat lingering in a word file waiting for the right season. NaNo arrived and my calendar said the season was here but like the fickle nature of winter my story did not follow my plan. It unfolded in its own time sometimes beautiful and sometimes frightening in the fury of her demands.
Today, I sit in awe of the words that spread across the page. Like the first snowfall, pure and untouched is my first draft – not yet tread upon or plowed, allowing other layers to fall. I wrap my hands around my hot cup of tea savoring the first snowfall and first words. It is a good day.