The rain was relentless, casting a fine, gray mist over everything. As I drove to the supermarket, the mist turned to rain, slowing down traffic and rendering the parking lot a hazard as shoppers pushed carts against the pelting rain, neither looking left or right to see if cars were approaching. It is the kind of weather situation I try to avoid, but, a sack of potatoes, some bacon for flavoring, and gallon of milk were needed for the promised pot of potato soup for our evening supper.
I located a parking spot and pulled into it, turned the ignition off and stilled the windshield wipers. It was there and then; one brief moment of magical transformation. The raindrops became splats and splotches and then, as if a wand from Hogwarts brushed the the air, giant snowflakes landed, one by one by one, upon the windshield.
Have you ever experienced that moment when a droplet of rain becomes a snowflake, then two and four and eight and more, like a row of kindergartener holding on, grabbing the first grade and second and so forth until a whole school of flakes take hold?
I hurried inside to make my purchases and then out again, into the elements, and home. My potato soup is simmering, waiting the addition of milk and egg dumplings. The snow has painted the Cutoff white; a pristine portrait for now, until the deer and squirrels and other creatures scrawl their signatures like footprints in the sand.
There was something about the snowflakes that brought to mind a story about a man who gained the reputation of being Snowflake Bentley. Do you know about him?
Wilson Bentley was born in 1865 and lived his entire life on the family farm in Jericho, Vermont. He was educated at home by his mother, reading her set of encyclopedias, in between working the farm with his family. Experimenting with his mother’s telescope, he became fascinated with snow crystals (snowflakes), observing that each one was different. Wilson talked his father into buying a camera that would enable him to take photos of the snow crystals through the lens of the microscope, and eventually catalogued some 5,000 snowflakes, discovering that no two are ever alike.
A shy man, different from most, with a good sense of humor, he became known as the Snowflake Man, or Snowflake Bentley.
Some years back, while on a leaf-peeping trip to Vermont, we stopped at the Old Red Mill in Jericho, and saw an exhibit of Snowflake Bentley’s photographs. I bought a snowflake ornament and this charming children’s book.
I tried to capture some snowflakes as they tumbled upon my windshield. All I got were droplets of water, which are pictured above, though the reverse image of corners of our house and The Barn can be seen in many of the droplets, reminding me, in an odd sort of way, that Bentley also photographed and measured raindrops.
Funny, is it not, how transformative a trip to the supermarket can be on a snowy winter day?
If you click onto the picture of rain, it will enlarge. Scroll around and see if you can find corners of our house.