Snowflake

Spinning, wheeling, twisting and turning, falling through the sky, dancing through the air before landing, settling amongst their kin. Hundreds upon thousands upon millions, tumbling and whirling, landing on eyelashes and coats and hair, in open mouths hoping to catch the first snowflakes of the year. 

Miniature works of art, every one of them, all unique and special and individual. No twins or triplets, just singular beings, floating down to fill up tracks of footprints, covering them over with a fresh white blanket for another day - though that would not last for long, with all the children of the village running riot over the fields, laughing and chasing and throwing, kicking up snow and leaving tracks. 

It was truly beautiful, really. Easy to forget all the problems in the world, when there were children laughing and reveling in the snow, just enjoying themselves in the way that only children can. 

That is, until the sky started turning dark and the children began to trudge home, leaving their tracks behind them once more as they curl up by the fire with steaming mugs of hot chocolate until they drowsily climb the stairs to bed to dream of another snowy day. 

Author's Note

Day four of a thirty day writing challenge.