That First Snow

There was nothing like that first snow.

Not the first flurry. Not the first whisper of snow. But the first god damn flurry that leaves the world blanketed in white. The crisp smell of ice and wind flood my nostrils as I stomp around in my black boots, flinging the white dust over my shoulder as I dig my car out.

Though I wish this weren’t the case, I still have work to do today. A paramedic’s job is never done.

Icicles decorate the roofs like ornaments as the evergreens do their dance in the fresh, morning light. I’m not cold-the leather interior of my jacket helps keep Jack Frost at bay. Though I might soon become Jack Frost himself if I don’t start driving, my boss would not forgive a late day even if Hell had frozen over itself.

Eventually, my van is dug out. I skid out of the driveway and pass by the multitudes of snow mounds along the sidewalk.

***

Most people drive like a***** in the snow, especially during the first one. So I’m shocked when our first call is a fire in our church. 5 critical, 10 wounded. All will hopefully survive.

As a paramedic, one learns to take in all the details while operating at light warp speed. As such, the chaos is borderline overwhelming: charred rubble, frayed drapes, the altar cloth in shambles. Luckily, no bones and the only noticeably casualty is the holy wine. Despite the obvious damage-the first started by accident, when an altar boy knocked over a candle- I find myself admiring the decorations. The altar had been lined with mistletoe, berries, poinsettias, and wreathes. All of which, very flammable. All of them now ruined bits of charcoal.

This is why I will never use real candles in my own Christmas tree. 

*The words used were Ornament, Evergreen, Church, Poinsetta, Snow, and Berries