Snow finds the peaks first.
Dusts the rocks,
a quiet landing overnight.
Thredbo wakes white,
a surprise for the valley.
Gum trees wear
a light, cold cloak.
The air bites clean.
Chairlifts hang still,
waiting.
A bloke sees his breath,
puffs of white on the crisp morning.
The mountain just changed its coat.
Winter\'s here,
a soft, bright start.