First Snow
It is the first fall we (have) here this winter.
The first fall of snow is not only an event it is a magical event. You go to bed in one kind of world and wake up to find (you) in another quite different world. The very secrecy and (quiet) of the thing makes it more magical.
When I (get) up this morning the world was a cold place of dead white and pale blues. Then the sun came out. The dining-room window had been transformed a lovely Japanese print. The little plum tree outside, with the faintly flushed snow (line) its branches and artfully disposed along its trunk, stood in full sunlight.
An hour or two later, the world had (complete) changed again. The little Japanese prints had all disappeared. Now it has changed again. From my study, is apart from the house and faces it, I can see the children flattening their noses against the window, and there is running through my head a rhyme I used (repeat) when I was a child and flattened my nose against the cold window to watch the falling snow.
