#221 Natquik... the drifting one...

Few things are as beautiful as innocence, purity, tenderness, freshness, softness and whiteness... Few things bring as much joy to a saddened soul as something so beautiful... Few things are amongst those that one must experience in his or her lifetime...

It all begins when the sun starts setting early in the evenings, and the nights get longer than days. A week of mild cold and a week of extreme, makes you wonder what would come the morning after Sunday.

Then the clouds build a fog and the sun hides its face... down comes a flake and so with a grace...

Voila... it's snow!

I heard the Eskimo has a hundred words for snow...

'qanuk' for the flakes and 'kaneq' for the frost... and 'kannevluk' for the fine snow, and 'natquik' for the drifting... and 'muruanek' for the soft deep one, and 'nutaryuk' for the fresh... and 'igloo' for the home...

I wonder if snow would mean more to anyone else...

I feel the snow is warm. It has a warmth in it that winter lacks...The sight of snow makes me happy, keeps me warm... refreshes my memory of places so high... sends me back to being a child... until my fingers hurt...

Like a little pretty girl, in her white merry frock, dancing all alone, the flake slowly comes, goes a bit to my left and a bit to my right, and then lands on the ground as a bird's touch n fly... and some more come along and they stick each on top... and this goes on till my heart fills with joy...

It is so pretty that I do not feel like taking pictures... let it be untouched... let it be pure... let it be the way it is... perfect...

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