The Sound of First Frost

I woke up to an eerie silence. Something had changed during the night. My bedroom was too quiet, and no noise came from the streets. It was as if the world had been insulated while I was asleep. The city never slept, so why was today different?

I sat up in bed with my ears on full alert. A dull hum came from the fridge in the kitchen next door. A slight drip sounded from the faucet.

No one was awake. Not even my Golden retriever - Pepper.

Where was he?

"Pepper. Come here, boy!" I called into the silence.

There was no sound of paw prints on our wooden tiled floors. He was probably asleep in my brother's room.

"Traitor." I huffed.

I donned my bunny slippers and shuffled towards my window. The silence seemed to emanate from outside.

I climbed onto a chair and knelt by a foggy window, pushing my nose onto the cold pane. The skin on my nose instantly tickled from the chill. My breath created a ring of fog on the glass. I swiped it away with the palm of my hand which turned wet. Surprised, I stared wide-eyed onto my street.

I blinked at the white world that greeted me. It was like the city had been blanketed by shaving foam. Tiny, white, whisps floated from the dark sky and settled wherever they could. Parked cars and fences bisecting the yards were covered in powder white.

Tiny footprints tracked diagonally across our drive way.

What could have made such small tracks? Maybe there was a racoon or a rat that had tried to get to the trash again? It wouldn't be the first time.

Frosted trees lined the street, like frozen sentinels petrified by the cold. Their naked branches reached into the darkness with white cotton wool raining onto them. Fluff stuck in tiny elongated snow drifts along the twisted boughs like stubborn white shadows.

The trees looked strange like this. Majestic and yet camouflaged by the snow.

A small brown sparrow, settled on the fence in front of my window. It tilted its head, as if to scold me for being up this early. It opened its beak and released three short sharp trills that echoed into the empty street. Almost immediately, an identical but subdued response came from somewhere up the street.

Avian gossip surrounded me as more feathered voices joined in.

Varied trills. Almost like a private orchestra. Some rapid. Some short. All beautiful serenading the breaking dawn.

I froze and listened from the vantage point of my bedroom window, as I held my breath.

What were they saying to each other? Were they discussing the cold snow and the lack of food?

Did the trees talk to each other too in some way? Maybe through their roots?

Suddenly, the sparrow swished its wings and soared upwards into the flurry of white mist. I waited to see where it would go next and tracked the bird, as I exhaled. A small cloud escaped from my mouth and steamed up the glass.

The bird fell out of view.

When I swiped the glass, the bird was gone from the tree.

Was there enough snow to make a snow man? There was only one way to find out.

I dressed as quickly as I could, and raced down the stairs. My big brother Tommy, was already ahead of me holding my coat.

"Hey sis, let's play!" He beamed and I gave him my biggest grin.

My name is Lizzy. I'm a trauma survivor, a wife, a mom, a teacher, and an author.

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