Isla Wants to Catch Snowflakes

Isla wanted to catch the very first snowflake on her tongue.

She stood in the garden in her red wellies and her woolly hat. The sky was grey and soft. Then one white speck came floating down.

"Here it comes," whispered Isla. She tipped back her head and opened her mouth wide.

The snowflake drifted left. Isla hopped left. It drifted right. Isla hopped right. Then a little puff of wind came, and the snowflake danced away over the fence.

"Come back!" said Isla.

Her cat, Biscuit, sat on the wall. He had come out to look for his lost toy mouse, and he did not care about snow at all. He shook a flake off his nose and sniffed under a bush.

Isla tried again. She ran across the grass with her tongue out. More flakes came now, but each one slipped away just as she reached it. Not one landed. Her tongue was cold and her feet were tired.

"Snow is too quick," she said.

She stopped and looked down. The grass was turning white. Little flakes were landing on her mitten, and they stayed there. Each one was a tiny star.

Isla held her breath. She stretched out her arm, very still, like a branch.

Then she thought, I don't have to chase it. I can wait.

She stood in the middle of the garden with her head tipped back and her mouth open. She did not hop. She did not run. The sky hummed with white.

Something tickled her tongue. It was cold and tiny, and it was gone in a blink.

"I got one!" she shouted. "Biscuit, I got one!"

Biscuit did not look up. He was pawing at something in the bush. Out came his toy mouse, covered in snow. "Mrrow," he said, very pleased.

Isla laughed and opened her mouth again. Softly, softly, the snow came down. It went tick, tick on her woolly hat, and it kept on coming.