The first snowfall used to mean football in the backyard, snowball fights, sled riding and listening to the radio in hopes that school would be canceled.

Now that I’m much older and mature and have more important things to do, the first snowfall pretty much means the same things — only substitute listening for school cancellations with birdwatching. I’m long out of school and work is never canceled, so that’s that.

That first snowfall still brings with it the excitement it did when I was a kid, thanks in large part to birds. 

The birdwatching starts as soon as I roll out of bed and see the ground freshly covered in snow. If my feeders are filled — and they usually are in the winter — the birds will be everywhere, even if it’s still snowing. 

The birds’ urgency to eat seems to be heightened and chickadees, nuthatches, titmice and cardinals are all over the feeders. Juncos and white-throated sparrows are hopping along the ground and mourning doves are either hanging out under the feeders or sitting perfectly still in the branches. Meanwhile, woodpeckers of all sorts dart from tree to tree and the occasional blue jay or crow breaks the silence with a loud call.

I was pleased to see a northern mockingbird in my yard on the day of our first snowfall this winter. I hadn’t seen one in a while and the rather ordinary gray bird looked surprisingly majestic with snow falling around it and accumulating on the surrounding branches.

I was also surprised this year to see a northern flicker as the snow came down. Unlike the other woodpeckers common to our region, flickers are rather unusual sightings in the winter. 

I love the first snowfall. Actually I love the subsequent snowfalls as well. Rarely am I disappointed when snow is in the forecast. I am disappointed, however, when a predicted monster storm fizzles. I grew up in the snowbelt along Lake Erie and have been in New England ever since. The cold doesn’t bother me and I drive a Subaru. Bring on the snow.

Birds are only part of the joy of snow these days. My son Andrew, who is now two-and-a-half, brings another element of enjoyment to the season. Usually it’s a battle to get his winter jacket, hat and gloves on, but when there’s snow on the ground, he just wants to get out there.

The first snowfall luckily fell on a weekend and, after building the world’s smallest snowman, we turned to football. We chased down “fumbles” and I taught him the fine art of tackling — gently, of course. Then we threw a few snowballs — he’s a lefty — and broke out the beach toys for some digging and dumping.

All the while we played in the backyard, the birdfeeder mounted outside the kitchen window two stories above our heads buzzed with activity. The titmice, chickadees and nuthatches hopped back and forth from nearby trees to the feeder. The occasional brave nuthatch would perch on the fence a mere few yards away from where Andrew and I played.

The ground birds — sparrows, juncos and doves — retreated to a neighbor’s yard, but they came back later in the day.

The first snowfall this year brought with it all the fun and excitement it usually does. Actually, winter will bring joys and challenges throughout the next several months. I’ll talk about that more in next week’s column.

For now, enjoy the season and make the most of it.

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