Spinny’s First Snow

Snow began to fall in the late evening, after Yens had his late-night tea and Spinny was ready to go to bed.
He watched in amazement from the big living room window at the huge soft snowflakes descending slowly in the dark and quiet, twirling and drifting until they finally settled on the ground.

Spinny squeaked softly. This was something entirely new. He had never seen so many tiny white things flying through the air at once.

“It’s called snow, Spinny. By morning you won’t be able to see the ground anymore. Everything will be covered in snow.”

A doubtful little squeak.

“We’ll go for a walk, it’ll be fun!” Yens add enthusiastically.
He loved snow. Loved the silence and tranquility it brought with it. The Forest always seemed to take a deep breath under the first snowfall.

Yens was right. In the morning, everything outside was white.

Yens was excited, the first snow-clearing of the year was always a joy. He enjoyed most early-morning snow cleanings, but the first one was always special.

He ate his breakfast quickly, skipped his second cup of tea, and didn’t even open his book.
Spinny stared at him suspiciously.
He’d never seen Yens behave like this. It felt… concerning.

And when Yens brought out a heap of mismatched socks and suggested that they should go on Spinny’s feet, that was simply too much.

Spinny uttered a squeak full of offense, folded his hands, tucked his feet tightly under himself, and turned around with great dignity.

Yens blinked in confusion.
“What happened, Spinny? Put these on and we’ll go outside, clean the snow, and have some fun! Don’t you want to play?”

Spinny did not reply. He just didn’t like the whole idea of it.

“All right,” Yens sighed, “I’ll go do some cleaning first, come back, and then we’ll sort it out. Okay?”

He wrapped his warm scarf around his neck, pulled on his sturdy socks and mittens, and stepped outside, letting the cloud of cold frosty air in.

Spinny sniffed it. The smell was rather pleasant. It reminded him of the giant green striped berry they’d tried at Uncle Earl the Beaver’s house last summer. If the white stuff outside tasted even half as good, it might be worth investigating.

He peeked out the window. Yens was knee-deep in snow, shoveling steadily, red mittens flashing against the white. He seemed quite happy.

Spinny headed for the door, ignoring the pile of socks entirely.

He nudged the door open a few inches. Nothing terrible happened. He squeezed through.
It was cold. Very cold. And there was snow on the steps. But Spinny was determined now.

He made it down several steps—one tiny paw at a time—until an icy patch betrayed him. Spinny tumbled down into the snow, a startled little black ball of fur and feet.

Yens heard the muffled squeak and spun around. Spinny was trying to climb out of the snowdrift, limbs tangled, squeaking indignantly. Yens hurried over, lifted him gently from the drift, brushed away the snow, and set him on a nearby sled. Then he dashed back inside and returned with the socks.

Spinny looked at the snow… looked at Yens… and then - reluctantly - at Yens’s own warm red socks. He tentatively stretched out one tiny foot, which was already quite cold.

“Thank you, Spinny,” Yens murmured.

He quickly put all six socks on and straightened up.
“See? Looks quite nice, doesn’t it?”

Spinny examined his feet critically and muttered something unsure. He remained unconvinced.

“Let me show you the best part,” Yens said. “Hold on tight!”

He grabbed the sled’s rope and started running, snow flying behind them. When he glanced back, he saw Spinny’s huge eyes wide with wonder - and happiness - and that alone made clearing the path worthwhile. Spinny was fully won over.
When Yens got tired of running, he decided to build a slide, and Spinny helped pile snow and carry little pots of water to make it icy.

It was a delight, pure, unstoppable delight.
Spinny went up and down, again and again, until it grew dark and his sock-covered feet could no longer hold him upright.

“I think we deserve a nice warm cup of cocoa now,” said Yens, who had been shoveling between sled rides. “And tomorrow I’ll show you how to make snow angels, and we can go skiing, and when the lake freezes well enough, we’ll go skating! How does that sound?”

Spinny squeaked in pure delight.
The whole winter was ahead, and the snow, by the way, tasted as good as the watermelon!