Formed in a cloud, frozen crystals emerge and become falling flakes, gaining speed and conviction. Though only a few at first, soon there’s a flurry, fiercely fighting the forces of wind and gravity, finally finding peace in a drift, first fluffy and white, then heavy and densely packed.
There, waiting in silence, anticipating, knowing that a warm afternoon filled with sunshine or rain, could bring another transformation. The crystalline lace melts, merging with others, forming a droplet, a stream, a river that flows.
When the time is right, reincarnated, airborne, returning to the sky, gathering in a cloud, waiting, again, silently waiting.
For the IndieInk Writing Challenge this week, Jay Andrew Allen challenged me with “There’s no business like snow business.” and I challenged SAM with “Unaware that his mother-in-law was listening, he confronted his wife about (fill in the rest of the story).”
How could someone from Baton Rogue know anything about snow? You must have paid attention during the rain cycle part of science class.