I came to Provo yesterday… and for the first time that I can remember, saw…
I’ve seen lots of snow, but it always came down in bits or large floating clumps. Those must have been many flakes stuck together. But individual flakes I can’t remember ever looking at up close.
These ones fell perfectly formed, one at a time. It was night time, and I had to look at them under the street lamp. I saw two or three that seemed to look the same, and I started thinking it was a silly myth that "all snowflakes are different" — surely many are the same, considering the amount that *fall. Then I found a really strange one with many spines, and then a really tiny one without branches, like a Star of David. I looked at others too and found more differences. They were mostly all about two millimetres tall and not so razor-thin as I would have expected, but still very thin. When you blew on them softly, they kind of withered and blurred, but when you blew hardly, they instantly contracted into a very tiny ball of water.
I drove here in my mom’s truck to pay the school fee for the winter period. I’d tried driving home earlier, but after travelling about five miles on the freeway in 15 minutes or more, I took an exit, got on the other way, and drove back. I thought I might be able to do some work here. Unfortunately, the library closed early.
I saw several Koreans yesterday, and at one point, I thought I even saw her. I kept going, of course; staring at Koreans helps nobody. If it was her, it was strange that I couldn’t recognize her. I woke up today with the strange, unwanted idea that she had a marriage engagement.
…Well. It must happen eventually. It happened with the Hong Kong sister, as wrong as that felt to me, and now she has a family.
It happened with everybody…
I’d better go check those snow pieces falling outside. I’m at the library now.
Well, surely enough, they were clumps of flakes. They came in all sizes today: I saw really teeny itty-bitty ones, and some really big, scary-looking ones with spikes. The tiny ones were really cute; they were usually rounded and blunt; one was merely a hexagon. Some of the larger ones were intersected with others. The clumps were all tangled together.
And when you touched these flakes…
I’d thought the flakes were like girls, but now I think they’re like people in general. It feels God-like, in a way, standing there and catching those vanishing things… You really hope none of the flakes *are self-important; even the most ridiculous ones, poised to impale you, melt away immediately at the touch of a fingertip.
Well, I’ve decided to start marking my non-standard usages with asterisks. These are not snowflakes, having only five points.]
I checked again. In fact, some were three-dimensional, extending in all directions. Some were conjoined. Some were as big as five millimetres, maybe more, and were still exquisitely shaped. Some couldn’t be seen for smallness. Some were very intricate, and some were dull-edged. Some were malformed, not actual flakes.
I guess I’ve noticed the spindles in snow before…]