Snowflake

A single snowflake.

A single snowflake falls. Floating more than falling really, so quiet, so peaceful. It contains less than a drop of water. It is nearly weightless. It can hardly make an impact. It can’t water a plant or erode a stone. It is as close to nothing as a thing could be.

A person, a lonely contemplative person.

A person can see a single snowflake. They can watch it drift, aimlessly dancing through the crisp air. To the watcher the snowflake takes on a personality, it becomes more than almost nothing, rather it is something to ponder. The person, they study it, they think about it. Maybe, they even become emotional about it. It reminds them of a friend or brings back memories of a loved one or of a special moment in time.

And in that the snowflake is not nothing. Practically, physically, scientifically, it matters little. But to the person who sees it, who needs to see it, it’s not nothing. For a moment, it could be everything.

Everything, in a single drifting dancing snowflake.... sometimes it’s the little things that keep the lights on, that keeps the heart open, that keeps the love alive.