Birthday Snow

I ran before birthday snow in the gray dawn. The clouds gathered just above the city streets, ready to burst. You can smell the snow in the air, cold and damp; it burns the tip of your nose with the frosty wind and chills your teeth if you inhale.

Cars and people moved quickly in anticipation of the coming weather, zipping in and out of the coffee shop and up and down the streets, finding time to pick up essentials from the store or scurrying to work under those heavy clouds. Snowflakes could start to fall at any moment, melting upon hitting the pavement, but clinging to the postage stamp lawns and neatly trimmed bushes.

The snow waited until I was home and sipping my coffee and fell when the kids went to school.  They ran down the street in between the flakes sticking to their backpacks and hats.

The snow fell fast as if the clouds had so much to say and said everything at once.

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