Yesterday, a surprise arrived early in my day. I expected to wake to gray, dreary skies and heavy clouds wringing precipitation from their voluminous folds as gusting winds pushed them eastward. But I was not prepared for my morning greeting. Honestly, I was not awake. Not really. Not in the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed fashion lucky people manage.
I listened to splatting noises hitting the windows, noticed moisture on the darkened street outside, where the streetlight revealed the descending rain. Only it did not look right. Perhaps my vision was still blurry, so I rubbed my eyes as I moved closer to the streaked glass. Slow recognition lifted the veil from my groggy mind. It was not raining. There were heavy sloppy snowflakes that melted on impact with any warm surface. Snow? How could that be? The season is far too young for snow. It’s not even Halloween. Then I remembered last year and a record-breaking accumulation of 3.4 inches of white cotton candy on October 31st. Trick or treat.
Snow. The word tickled in my heart, my lips smiled, and I swear I heard someone giggle. Flake by flake, they fell, whispering secrets hushed by the silent sky. The first snowfall transformed a regular Monday, creating something magical and enchanting. All I know is that it heralds the beginning of a spectacular week.
How was your Monday?
_________________________________________
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
My Monday wasn’t a patch on yours, Jo. That really was a lovely surprise…
LikeLiked by 1 person
It was so pretty. It changed my entire outlook for the week, and I had to share. 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautiful
LikeLiked by 1 person
It was glorious. 💕
LikeLike
Love this post and the imagery you used. The whole post felt magical. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I am so happy you liked the post, and I hope you found some magic in your day. 💗
LikeLike
Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for sharing. 💕🙏💕
LikeLiked by 1 person
Always love to read and share your posts, Dear!
xoxo
😘💕🌹😁
LikeLiked by 1 person