The Life of a Snowflake
Having Never Been One
James Hodges
The life of a snowflake is beautiful
and ugly, happy and sad, painful and peaceful. There are so many paths that a
snowflake can go on, but from the moment of conception the snowflake’s path is
determined. Up high in the clouds, the water vapor turns into the crystals that
will soon fall to the ground. The sense of wonder a snowflake must have as he
swirls in the sky, waiting to fall. What is in store for the beautiful, delicate
little flake? The suspense is killing me.
As the wind blows and the clouds
part, snow begins to fall. Some snowflakes fall by themselves, reveling in the
joy of a peaceful freefall. Others stick together in cliques, thinking that
their chances will be better with the pack. But most race for the chance of
getting the sweet spot, the coveted tree limb. From this vantage point the
snowflake can live out its life over looking the world below. He isn't doomed to
fall into the hustle and bustle of the streets below. Destined to get shoveled
and brushed aside. Condemned to be yellowed by dogs and drunks. Damned to get
soiled by the dirt and scum of a modern world.
As the race toward the earth
intensifies, our snowflake flutters with excitement. He twirls in the wind,
trying to position itself just right. He can’t see at first. Only white below:
is it the ground, already covered with snow? Is it the leaders of the race and
they are gaining on them?
He soon finds out.
As the ground rushes near, a
snowflake sees the end of his journey—and perhaps his life. Some see nothing but
concrete and headlights as they realize their fate is a highway. Some will see
that they are falling in a place like Georgia, the earth not quite frozen, their
landing a sudden death sentence. Others will peacefully fall on Christmas Eve,
blanketing everything in a glistening white… well, blanket (hence the term
blanketing). Some lucky few will fall on the tree limb they so desired, only to
realize that it may not be so great after all. When the sun comes out they will
glisten and sparkle, bringing delight to many a boy and girl, only to realize
they are slowly melting together in the warmth of that very same sun. They begin
to lose their individual identity and, instead of a beautiful snowflake, they
become just snow. That is the painfully beautiful life of a snowflake, having
never been one.
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Rachael Kaniewski