Snow in Roanoke Today
Snow slipped into Roanoke this morning
quiet as a neighbor sneaking into the garage
to secretly return something they borrowed long ago.
Just a thin sift at first,
dusting rooftops, railings, the tops of parked cars
like powdered sugar on a chilled city.
By midday it thickened into soft curtains,
the kind that hush the world
and make even the usual traffic sounds
feel shy and far away.
I watched flakes drift past the window
in their slow winter dance,
each one deciding its own path,
none in a hurry.
The mountains wore the snow easily,
as if they had been waiting for it,
and Mill Mountain looked
like someone had tucked it in
with a fresh quilt.
Later, walking outside,
the air tasted like cold chalk and cloudwater.
Footprints appeared and faded,
birds hopped with the confusion of tiny librarians
whose books had all been refiled.
Roanoke felt softer today,
like the city had paused for a long breath,
and invited the rest of us
to breathe with it.
Daily Archives: December 5, 2025
Star City Mancala
Day 20,760
A light snow dusted Roanoke this morning, the sort that hushes the whole valley and tucks the rooftops under a clean white quilt. I stepped outside and the air felt like something out of a storybook, crisp enough to nip the nose, soft enough to make the city seem kind. Fresh powder lined the evergreens like thick frosting, and the brick houses peeked through like shy guests arriving early for winter.
And maybe ’twas the season brought company.
While crunching along the stone path, I caught sight of a familiar little fellow trudging along with a red of child restraints slung over his back. Not quite human, not quite anything you’d see outside of folklore, but with a big lolling tongue, a blue grin, and the sort of enthusiasm only a holiday mischief-maker can manage. A Krampusling? A traveling sprite on official December business? Hard to say. But he looked pleased enough with himself, jangling a tiny keg like he was checking it twice, ready for whatever Krampusnacht has in store.
Tonight marks that old alpine tradition, after all. The eve when the kind children get warm light and sweets, and the naughty ones… well, best to mind your manners. Around here, the only real danger is slipping on the sidewalk or forgetting gloves, but the spirit of the thing still stirs. Mischief in the air. Bells that sound like laughter. A hint of old-world magic drifting with the snowflakes.
Standing there with the cold seeping gently into my boots, the whole scene felt like Roanoke was hosting a visitor from some illustrated winter tale. Snow settling over the trees, the sky a soft gray dome, and our blue friend stomping happily along the stones like he belonged here all along.
If this is what the season is bringing in, I’m all for it.
#roanokeva #SnowDay #Krampusnacht #backyardzoo #DecemberMagic #krampus