The sun glimmers in the distance, its light casting soft warmth over the near-frigid landscape. The trees are naked, the forest floor is littered with tiny dead twigs, and the critters are, if not sleeping soundly, hiding in the warmth of their dens.
The rolling hills and plains are covered with white. A vast, pristine expanse that is pleasing, soothing even to some. But alas, if there are, as two sides to a coin, there are two sides to this vast pallid plain. One is the beautiful, winter landscape that many love and enjoy. The other is a massive, looming disaster waiting to happen. Although upon it many like to build snowmen and throw snowballs, along with some sports, to the unwary and unlucky, it is an inhospitable place, where the whiteness disorientates, blinds and eventually, preserves the remains of the unfit.
In this seemingly solid place, is a secret. It is one of nature’s most beautiful and complex creations. The massive white blanket that covers the land is made up of a throng of snowflakes.
The importance of these snowflakes, as made apparent by those who trot on these little masterpieces, is unbeknownst to some. The story of a snowflake begins with a tiny droplet, miles high above the solid ground.
The tiny droplet, unable to move at all, is at the whim of the elements. The strong zephyrs of the upper heaven toss it about. It is taken over hill and dale, over mountain and plain, sea and desert, forest and grassland, but it is too light to land. Vulnerable and easily manipulated, it is alone for the first few stages. If it had the chance to speak, to think or to comprehend, it may very well say “Woe to me, for I am at the whim of the elements, for I am at the mercy of the Fates.”
Time passes, it is but a fleeting moment for the droplet that spent a journey in comfort, an eternity of agony for the one that had a violent way. The world gives way to the new life-bringer, to the new herald of a time of purging and renewal, a trial by fire, rather, ice that destroys the weak and strengthens the strong and lucky. It finds itself with many of its own kind. Kin and friend alike, it is no longer alone. It never was, but then again, it was incapable of knowing this.
It is now in a cloud. It drifts, at times lazily amongst the invisible eddies of air, and at other times violently, when the heavens turn purple with wrath. Before it is allowed to drift slowly down to the embrace of mother earth, it goes through another challenge. As the cloud grows heavy, the greed of other droplets brings them to each other, they clump together, but they prove too heavy, and they fall. They bring life, but theirs is destroyed, only to be created anew.
The cloud is now lighter. The angelic faces of the drops that abstained from evil remain. They drift, as one, over mountains and seas, just like in their first journey. They discover things about themselves, and they find peace. They climb ever higher. They reach for the skies, and here ends their lives. Their bodies freeze, creating the works of art beyond mortal hands. They form six-pointed crystals, each different from the last, testament of a uniqueness in every member of the myriad.
They fall, slowly, ever closer to the embrace of the earth and their other brothers and sisters. They fall and create the blanket of white that envelops the land. This journey ends, but as every hello is a goodbye waiting to happen, every ending is a beginning, we just do not know it at the time.
Shall we follow the path of the meek and humble droplet and travel down a long white road or the path of the greedy droplet and fall to our deaths by our own hands?
Just as there are two sides to a coin, there are two sides to these marvels of nature. What if all it takes is one of these to send an avalanche crashing down the slopes and killing hundreds, no, thousands of people? What if all it takes is one of these to send an entire house toppling down on top of its inhabitants? Everything happens for a reason, as the old Latin statement goes
“Neque porro quisquam est, qui dolorem ipsum quia dolor sit amet, consectetur, adipisci velit, sed quia non numquam eius modi tempora incidunt ut labore et dolore magnam aliquam quaerat voluptatem.”
In English “Nor again is there anyone who loves or pursues or desires to obtain pain of itself, because it is pain, but because occasionally circumstances occur in which toil and pain can procure him some great pleasure.”
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