Let it Snow!

            Winter is coming and snow is beginning to fall in some parts of the world.  I don’t live where we get much snow but I am always delighted when I have a rare opportunity to experience it. It you are lucky enough, you can catch a glimpse of an individual snowflake on a dark coat sleeve or glove and see the unique shapes of these delicate water crystals.

            One man who was particularly interested in snowflakes was W. A. Bentley from Jericho, Vermont aka “Snowflake” Bentley. Bentley was born in 1865 and was a self-educated farmer, however, he “attracted world attention with his pioneering work in the area of photomicrography, most notably his extensive work with snow crystals” (Blanchard, 261).  After years of experimenting, Bentley figured out how to adapt a microscope into a bellows camera.  Because of his invention, during a snowstorm on January 15, 1885, he obtained the first photomicrograph ever taken of an ice crystal.  He continued with this obsession and captured detailed pictures of more than 5,000 snowflakes during his entire lifetime.  It is because of Bentley we know that no two snowflakes are alike.

            When Bentley was sixty years old, he recalled his early days:  “I never went to school until I was fourteen years old. My mother taught me at home. She had been a schoolteacher before she married my father, and she instilled in me her love of knowledge and of the finer things of life. She had books, including a set of encyclopedia. I read them all.  And it was my mother that made it possible for me, at fifteen, to begin the work to which I have devoted my life. She had a small microscope, which she had used in her school teaching. When the other boys of my age were playing with popguns and sling-shots, I was absorbed in studying things under this microscope: drops of water, tiny fragments of stone, a feather dropped from a bird's wing, a delicately veined petal from some flower.  But always, from the very beginning, it was snowflakes that fascinated me most. The farm folks, up in this North Country, dread the winter; but I was supremely happy, from the day of the first snowfall-which usually came in November-until the last one, which sometimes came as late as May.” (Blanchard).

            Bentley said, "Under the microscope, I found that snowflakes were miracles of beauty; and it seemed a shame that this beauty should not be seen and appreciated by others. Every crystal was a masterpiece of design and no one design was ever repeated.  When a snowflake melted, that design was forever lost. Just that much beauty was gone, without leaving any record behind."

            During the next snowstorm you experience, take a moment to look at it through new eyes.  Study those tiny, wet miracles and be amazed!

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Blanchard, Duncan C. “Wilson Bentley, The Snowflake Man,” Weatherwise, 1970, 260-269.

Old Attics

             The early colonies of the New World have always fascinated me, and in recent years I have focused on the establishment of New Netherland.  These initial settlers interest me because of their ability to succeed in an unfamiliar environment and at such a great distance from their homes in the Old World.  They had to rely on themselves and each another for supplies, food, support and survival; a crop failure or illness could be devastating.

            While reading Firth Haring Fabend’s book A Dutch Family in the Middle Colonies, 1660-1800, I ran across a description of the contents of an attic in the 1790s on a farm in New York - previously New Netherland.  This intrigued me.  The narrative described the attic in this way: “Nuts of all kinds were stored in baskets and bags, apples and pears in their season, [and] bags of dried apples and beans.  Spinning wheels, . . . spare ribs and sausage, bacon and ham, bundles of broom corn for brooms and field corn on the cob for the next year’s planting, garden seeds and herbs of many kinds, boxes and barrels and chests, and irons and drums, sleigh bells large enough to be heard a mile distant, harness, tin horns, ropes and whips, stepladders and stoves, candle moulds and sausage stuffers, hand sleds and cradles . . .” (Fabend, 64-65).

            As the attic contents are listed it is simple to see their necessity for the family’s survival.  The seeds and tools inventoried clearly show the preparation for the future that was required to survive in the New World - far from a supply source.  The food items cataloged demonstrate the need to store up to survive the winter, with dried apples and beans and salted meats being eaten carefully throughout the icy months.  Simply stated, the items in this attic reveal how serious life was for these early folk.  There is, however, an item listed that captured my thoughts, attention and delight.  It was the “sleigh bells large enough to be heard a mile distant.”  What a magnificent thing, to actually own sleigh bells that would be so large as to be heard a mile away! 

            Along with all the seriousness of enduring until spring are those enchanting bells just waiting to ring loudly through the snowy countryside.  In my mind’s eye, I see a frosty home with a curl of thin, grey smoke coming from its chimney sitting in the middle of smooth, hard, white snow.  The chores have been done, the animals are all eating in the barn and the family is busy inside near the fireplace.  They are occupied stirring soup or kneading bread or whittling or cleaning a gun or sewing a patch on a torn jacket.  As they busily work side-by-side, the air is filled with humming and soft discussions of their days work; then a sound is heard in the distance.  One by one they each stop what they are doing and listen and with great excitement they recognize it as the sound of their neighbor’s sleigh bells still a mile away.  Suddenly the homely cottage is filled with anticipation as more potatoes are added to the soup and the biscuits are rolled a little thinner so as to have more to share with their guests. Projects are quickly put away and extra wood is brought in to warm their wintery guests.  As the cheery sound of the sleigh bells halt near the front door a bit of regret is felt because no dessert had been prepared to go with the evening meal.  Peering out the frosty windowpane at the visitors as they dismount from their sled, the wife notices her friend carrying a pie pan wrapped in layers of linen cloth; in it is a pie made from attic apples.  As the sounds of laughter replace the clatter of the sleigh bells all are reminded that though life is filled with hard work, there is always time to enjoy living and the sound of distant sleigh bells.

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Firth Haring Fabend, A Dutch Family in the Middle Colonies, 1660-1800 (New Brunswick and London: Rutgers University Press, 1991.