Last winter we were graced
With three days of storms.
One after the other
After the other.
Each brought snow
But different temperatures
And so different snowflakes.
I spent hours outside
Bent over
Neck crooked
Shoulders curled
My snowflake catcher spread in the snow
Brushing off accumulation
Hands out of mittens
Red and raw
In order to capture the image
With my macro lens and camera.
Everything wet with melted flakes
One shot out of every twelve in focus
Stiff and cold
And exhilarated.
I felt compelled to stay
To watch
To witness the flakes falling
To do justice to the beauty.
The fear of missing a flake
That fell perfectly for my camera
That avoided the melted puddles and piles
That didn’t collide with others on its path to the ground
That formed symmetrically
That held a clear crystal at its core
Was too much for me
So I remained
Crouched and cold and happy.
If Snowflake Bentley could do it,
So could I, I told myself.
My hero’s shoes are too big to fill
And I don’t pretend to have either his skill or devotion
But I appreciate the company of his presence
His work an inspiration
When I am out there in the snow
Capturing snowflakes
Cold and happy.
