I was in the woods this morning, perched on top of a local mountain shooting a trail race. It was silent and cold and damp and I was all by myself when I felt something brush my cheek. I looked up and then looked down upon my coat sleeves to see the first delicate snowflakes of the season land upon the fleece of my jacket. I looked up again at the sky to make sure that what I saw was really and truly happening and it was: it was snowing, silently and elegantly, the flakes falling peacefully as they made their way to the muddy trail at my feet. Only a far off flicker seemed to notice the change, warbling his welcome to the flakes as a giant grin spread across my face and childlike joy filled my body. There is no better place to be to welcome the first snow of the year than in the woods.