The snowflake fell through the dark, a stark white against the ebony night. It danced and twirled and even swirled, twinkling brightly like the stars in the heavens. Gossamer tendrils of pearly white, frozen patterns of hazy light, the snowflake spiraled among its kind. Torrents of winter’s love blanket the earth. The icy gale blows its breath and sets the snowflake reeling, flying up toward the heavens and down toward the earth. Words fail a passerby, alone in the night, as he gazes up into the winter white, watching the snowflakes work their magic, making the earth rejoice the winter’s coming.

The trees sway in answer, folding the snowflakes against their bows, humming a sweet lullaby of the night as they cherish the winter moon’s light. A lone, white fox runs through the snow, making no noise on his quiet paws. He turns to the light and disappears into the white, leaving no trail of his flight.

Whether by day or by night, the snowflake dances along, spiraling gracefully, so full of life. Its delicate patterns, caressed by the wind, twirl and spin toward the lights down below. Her fragile flight is at an end, and she bows down with a bend, breaking in two as she hits the earth and nestles in the frosty snow. A quiet goodbye and then the warm sunlight shines, enveloping the world in its amber light. White turns to orange and orange turns to white as the sun makes its course through the sky up above. And as it begins to descend, and day comes to an end, the snowflakes come falling in their white, crystal dance, swirling amid the midnight gale. As the pale moon appears, the stars reel over head, each unique snowflake comes to dance once again. Winter comes blowing, caressing the earth, and giving December its bright white rebirth.