The first snow of the Solstice—

pristine and pure— and

welcomed by all

as the first herald of the News.

There is something safe and sacred

about the letting go of the harvest time

and the embracing of the time of the Interiors.

See how we rest safely in thoughts and reflections,

just as the snow rests safely in crooks of tree branches.

As we listen, wait and dream

now and then a miracle appears

if we are open to finding it.

Color photograph and poem, © Redlefsen, 2004