A Snowflake on Snowflakes

Amanda Evans

Issue 39 * Fall 2017

"Snowflakes, snowflakes, floating through the light.
The special thing about them: No two are alike."

Preschoolers understand the paradox
with their cotton balls, glue, tiny scissors and white paper:
each snowflake unique but stronger together.

I am a precious snowflake,
but the snow fort we built in the yard lasted for weeks.
I am a precious snowflake,
but snowflakes can also be an avalanche,
or snowball attack, or snowmen (abominable or otherwise),
but also snow cones in all the colors of summer.

"You are not special. You're not a beautiful & unique snowflake. You're the same decaying organic matter as everything else. We're all part of the same compost heap. We're all singing, all dancing crap of the world," says Tyler Durden in Fight Club. In A Clockwork Orange, little Alex rips up "The Miracle of the Snowflake" & pieces float down in the dirty street.
Are these our heroes now?

We all know that there are many words for snow:
a word for the wet snow used to ice the runners of a sleigh,
and one for the crystalline powder that looks like salt.

The snowflake is the salt of the earth.
Take it with a grain.
Call me a snowflake, or a cornbread cornflake.
But I am different than you & we are still
    stronger together.
You too are different & it's okay.
             We should teach our children these things.

 

* Also, global warming is real