My Back Yard in Winter, 2008
December came on as quickly as the flu, little warning, then Bam! Winter, cold, wind and a dusting of perfect snowflakes. I have a midwesterner's love/hate relationship with snow. It is lovely, it protects my plants, but after a few months, it just gets depressing and annoying to negotiate. Muddy pawprints, muddy boots prints, yukky slush glomping off the car making salt puddles in the garage. Illinois winters are not the winters of my childhood. I grew up in Brigadoon, on a spit of land buffeted from both time and temperature by the waters of the Chesapeake and Delaware bays, marshy, sandy land filled with sassafras, cypress trees, mountain laurel and holly berries. I am a foreigner here, these winters and wind chills still shock me, though I came in the summer of 1984, when Mary Lou Retton scored her perfect 10's and won Olympic gold. My first 40 below wind chill was a rude awakening, and I've been complaining and commenting ever since. I am an old dog. And complaining is one of my best tricks.
But not today. It's 20 degrees blowing cold north air, flurries sparkle in the clear moonlight night, and winter is just getting started. It's going to slap us around a time or two, show us the meaning of snowfall, windchill and blizzard. Those who can't handle it are welcome to move south and those who stay, and seek diversion, need look no farther than the amazing snowflake. One of my favorite creations, outside of giant moths and lovely chickens and smiling babies. And flowers. And ice cream. But I digress.
Snowflakes. Up close, thanks to the scanning electron microscope and a few crazed scientists, especially Kenneth Libbrecht, from Caltech. Amazing doesn't begin to describe what the eye can see. Look:
This is not my first geeky post on the amazing snowflake. I could write for hours about Snowflake Bentley, the man who first trudged a camera into the cold to photograph snowflakes. He died from pneumonia after walking home in a winter storm, and never made a cent from his amazing photographs:
If you've the time and curiosity, I have a more in depth blog about this on my nerd page, my sanity saving
35 degree below Zero Diversions. If you have the time or the curiosity, enjoy the many links and videos, including vintage Suzy Snowflake! Happy December. Let the games begin!
I remember when I was maybe 8 or 9 being mesmerized by photos of snowflakes in National Geographic. Almost 40 years ago, and they're still magical and mesmerizing
ReplyDeleteThey are. They are mesmerizing. I remember the two winters I lived in Denver and watching the snow blow in under the street lights and how quiet everything was, covered in that blanket. But it was not for me. I could appreciate the beauty but it was not my beauty. And the sliding on the ice and the walking through the dirty mush and the continual feeling as if my body needed to fold in upon itself to try to find warmth- too much for me and I scurried back down south.
ReplyDeleteBut I can appreciate the magic. I still can.
I'm waiting for snow now. I hope we get some this year. We had a few days last year. Not for us the long long snowy winters any more. But the snowflakes make me pause every time. I just don't believe how they can form. It's impossible to reach that kind of perfection.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful Mel!
ReplyDeleteGreat post. Love your words and memories about moving and snow. It's supposed to snow here later, first real storm (CT) and my flower pots and lawn furniture are still outside, crowding near the bulk head, wanting to be put away. Oh well.
ReplyDeleteI love your passion for snowflakes. And have read the Snowflake Bently children's book.
And gotten that big old book of snowflake patterns through ILL long ago too.
Thanks for your comment on my crazy long blog post today. It's helping me along, like you wouldn't believe. I loved your sharing. Meant a lot.
Zombies though, yikes!
Will listen to your dreams any day.
Off to start laundry.