A White Thanksgiving?


I love the falling snow.  The flirtatious fluttering of giant, soft snowflakes topple downward, cartwheeling in the glee of being free from the heaviness of aquatic drops.  It is so pretty and peaceful.   The snowflakes lazily glide down without a care in the world, unaware of how its light weight can cause such a heavy burden.  You cannot capture the elusive snowflake, it vanishes upon touch.  It’s almost magical in its existence, this complex crystal of frozen water.  A frozen prism that sparkles rainbow confetti.  Each one is so intricate and so fragile, so blissfully inspiring in how such a small, delicate, almost invisible object cause can such dismay, foul language, full hearted grunts, such a scurry in the step, can change the mood of an entire city.  In a snowflake’s moment, the whimsical crystal can dispatch an entire fleet of large trucks with shovels so giant that you question the laws of gravity.   It certainly is motivating, these tiny lightweight miracles, that collectively can impact the world so ostentatiously.


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