The Night of the Snowfall

Snow falls gently in the Hill Country covering the meadows and the valleys. The sluggish streaks of smoke climb quietly from the roofs but fail to reach the lazy clouds. On Alamo Plaza in the heart of the night and under the flood of lights, the flakes float like frozen moths and glow like fireflies. They drop on the blades of dormant grass. They alight on the cobblestones and live awhile in silence, they dissolve before dawn. The wet limestone walls of the mission glow proudly after the night of snowfall.