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Book of Days

BOOK OF DAYS: A POET AND NATURALIST TRIES TO FIND POETRY IN EVERY DAY

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March 1: Snowflakes

Kristen Lindquist

March is coming in like a polar bear this year, with the first snow storm we've seen in weeks. I've been mesmerized by snow sifting off the roof in whispering waves, and by fluffy, wind-blown flakes swirling in all directions outside the window, whirling dervishes of snow. The bleak lawn has been restored to a clean, white canvas, written on only by the occasional weed and last summer's grasses poking through.

Big flakes cling to my window, retain their entrancing forms as lacy, six-sided crystals. It's almost a cliche to marvel at the perfect beauty of a snowflake, but really, just think of each one forming up in its cold cloud, those microscopic bits of ice accreting to create each unique crystal, which then falls with millions of others just like it (and yet each different!) to create this thick blanket of snow... Watching snow is really a meditation on the power of many small things coming together as one.

I put my nose up to the window to get a closer look. On the other side of the glass, the tiny, dried-up florets of a Queen Anne's lace blossom perfectly echo the snowflakes' starry shapes.

Snow crystals--entranced,
I almost hesitate to
get out the shovel.