Thu, Aug 18, 2022: 8:45 AM-9:00 AM
520B
Background/Question/MethodsBackground: The Natural History of Snowflakes tells us (channeling NOAA at https://www.noaa.gov/stories/how-do-snowflakes-form-science-behind-snow) that no two snowflakes can be identical because 1) this form of H2O is a hexagonal ice crystal, and those that form at -5 ˚C are long and needle-like, whereas those forming at -15 ˚C are flatter and plate-like; 2) during the journey from cloud to ground, when a crystal encounters a distinctive atmospheric zone of air humidity or temperature, one snowflake’s six arms will branch in a direction that is different compared with every neighbouring flake’s six arms; 3) each flake morphs as it is buffeted or falls serenely through different temperature layers. A small island within the Arctic Circle the latest refuge of polar bears is running out of icebergs. All the snow-making equipment has been commandeered and hoarded such that not even the sadly overused excuse of a supply chain or nervous breakdown will do. Inquiry: What are my options now that permafrost is not a thing? Where can I hear the sound of glaciers? How can I locate the museum of underground aquifers? To whom shall I address my questions if not you?Methods: Start anywhere; the world is round.
Results/ConclusionsI am writing this slant because if I name the missing the missing precipitation not the missingwhom I miss but daily feel more akin totheir crepe paper near transparent souls insistingI am traveling toward themlike a greyhound spiraling now up now downcircling a rabbit I myself designed If I speak aloud or dream the soft delirious desire for it even dare to whisper its sibilances to surrender utterly to it as it descends from aloftor perhaps even from a previously unglimpsed loftwhere it is gathered and stored and saved for later now is later — do you see We are in the later The misplaced snow keeps comingswirling breathing crystallizing dropleting — elsewhereDear permafrost I am face down on top of you I am begging you The clouds are snow clouds pewter and wan holding loosely their amorphousness, pushing cajoling the snow layers down up down whirling gusting I wait for the new downfalling a small sound a humming a tiny jostling murmur just beyond my hearing in the huge breathheld silence the transformation the trans the form the a ah aah all way to the n — We are late
Results/ConclusionsI am writing this slant because if I name the missing the missing precipitation not the missingwhom I miss but daily feel more akin totheir crepe paper near transparent souls insistingI am traveling toward themlike a greyhound spiraling now up now downcircling a rabbit I myself designed If I speak aloud or dream the soft delirious desire for it even dare to whisper its sibilances to surrender utterly to it as it descends from aloftor perhaps even from a previously unglimpsed loftwhere it is gathered and stored and saved for later now is later — do you see We are in the later The misplaced snow keeps comingswirling breathing crystallizing dropleting — elsewhereDear permafrost I am face down on top of you I am begging you The clouds are snow clouds pewter and wan holding loosely their amorphousness, pushing cajoling the snow layers down up down whirling gusting I wait for the new downfalling a small sound a humming a tiny jostling murmur just beyond my hearing in the huge breathheld silence the transformation the trans the form the a ah aah all way to the n — We are late