I was experiencing a typical day in the life of a Boymom when these flakes started falling. My hours had been thoroughly packed with barely-managed chaos from the start, and despite my best efforts, I was still missing one Tae Kwon Do belt, and a $400 pair of prescription glasses that insurance wouldn’t cover.
The flakes started falling, and I recognized them. ‘The miracle flakes… the ones that manage to make it all the way down to our level from 10,000 feet up in the sky, intact, and each one unique from any other that will ever be created.
I’ve ALWAYS wanted to try my hand at snowflake macro photography.
The clock told me I had ten minutes before I had to leave for school. What’s the chance I could find all “the stuff”, and fudge my way through the fastest wing-it shoot imaginable, in less than ten minutes? There was no way this was going to work, but my heart needed it, so off I ran, tripping over Nerf Darts all the way.
Did I mention that I live in Wyoming? The wind was rocking me back and forth during my remaining two-minute photoshoot (after losing eight minutes to the stuff-finding). I was forced to squat like a master contortionist over a random black winter neck muff, which also kept moving in the wind. Undeterred, I marveled at the little crystal wonders through my lens, firing off handheld shots as fast as I could. I also prayed. (It was worth a try. He really does care about our “details”.) Those two minutes were bliss in my day. Photog Therapy. I knew I wouldn’t capture what I was aiming for, but it was fun regardless.
This NEVER should have worked, but as my husband likes to say, “Even a blind squirrel gets a nut sometimes.”
Seeing these images for the first time brought me a second round of indescribably joy, and they continue to do so every time I return to them. I know I didn’t earn them. I did everything wrong. The only thing I did right was pause to appreciate the wonder. (Being me, that involves a camera.)
I don’t know about you, but that’s what keeps me pushing that shutter… and stubbornly lugging the giant camera bag around, in addition to everything else required for Boymomming. (Yesterday, I dug in that camera bag and pulled out a rubber ninja throwing-star, and a 1.84 pound glob of hardened clay, source unknown. ‘Not kidding. I weighed it on a kitchen scale… but, I digress.) As a result, these specific snowflakes, which will never be repeated in existence, can now be enjoyed indefinitely. You just never know.
I do know one thing. You may be the only one available in a particular place and time to capture a little wonder that the rest of us will never experience if you don’t try. Please try!
(I suspect I’m not the only one who has found remarkably odd things in their camera bag, source known or unknown. It would be fun to hear some of your examples in the comments!)