Winter’s Art is Mysterious, Complex, and Still Unexplained

Several years ago, my eldest son gave me a book for Christmas called “The Snowflake – Winter’s Secret Beauty,” written by Kenneth Libbrecht and photographed by Patricia Rasmussen.

I was fascinated by the enlarged microscopic photos, but even more intrigued by the fact that scientists even today cannot fully explain why no two snowflakes are alike or how each is created with such specificity.

Quoting Libbrecht, “The wonder of snowflakes is how they are fashioned into such complex and symmetrical shapes with no blueprint or genetic code to guide construction. How do they develop into such intricate structures? Where is the creative genius that designs the never ending variety of snow-crystal patterns?”

I’m a believer and a “Creationist” so I’m perfectly content knowing that God our Father created the earth and everything in it.  The Lord God enjoyed creating such beauty for us and used eternal mathematical principles to mold and shape our universe.

Libbrecht explains that “Crystalline branches form around a nucleus of microscopic dust, creating a one-of-a-kind design. Because it weighs next to nothing, a snow crystal may take hours to fall – finally landing where photographer Rasmussen’s amazing micro-photography can capture the fleeting beauty and complexity of nature’s art.

“Rain does not produce snowflakes. Rain simply turns into frozen water becoming sleet. A frozen raindrop does not become a patterned snowflake with ornate patterning and symmetry. Snowflakes are the product of a rich synthesis of physics, mathematics, chemistry and temperature. No two are alike, but their uniqueness is soon lost on the ground where they clump together into formless lumps of ice.

Henry David Thoreau said in 1856: “How full of the creative genius is the air in which these (snowflakes) are generated! I should hardly admire them more if real stars fell and lodged on my coat.”

As a kid, I loved folding paper and seeing how intricately I could cut out a flake with my scissors. Usually my stars had four points or eight. Our class would decorate our windows with the many patterns each student had made. In retrospect, these simple designs were a far cry from the intricate patterns that fell on our tongues at recess.

A man by the name of Wilson Bentley, a farmer from Vermont, photographed a real snowflake in 1885 by attaching his microscope to his camera. Snowflake photography became his lifelong passion. In the course of 46 years, he captured more than 5,000 snow-crystal images on the old-style glass photo-graphic plates and scientists and hobbyists have been photographing and studying them ever since.

Have you ever paused to study the intricate designs and patterns that land on your lapel when a blizzard occurs? The fluffy, large flakes that fall during a massive storm are not as detailed or crystallized as the ones that fall during colder weather. The big ones melt quickly because they are full of ice water.

Einstein wrote “What I Believe” in 1930: “The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed.”

Next time you find yourself complaining that it’s bitter cold or that you’re home-bound, bundle yourself up and get outdoors with a magnifying glass. Study the exquisite beauty found in those ice crystals that fall as snowflakes. Use your eyes to appreciate and see. Awaken your imagination to the miracles that exist around you.

Violent Weather can Affect your Plans Whether you Like it or Not!

Pusan, Korea, hotel

June 1 through November 15 is not “summer” here in Florida, but “Hurricane Season,” which means we have a torrent of rain almost every afternoon and a few violent storms; some of which are hurricane proportion and some not.

When I lived in Seattle, the drizzle in winter was called “six months of wet.” The other six months were relatively mild and beautiful. The trade-off was exquisite weather half of the year. I could live with that.

When I was visiting Pusan, Korea one fall, the residents reminded us it was “Monsoon Season.” We stayed in one of the oldest hotels on the top floor. Our windows overlooked the bay and the ocean. Our only saving grace was the fact that the hotel had survived many years of violent weather and was still standing.

A monsoon did rip through one of the nights we were there. The next morning there was damage all around us, but the hotel had withstood. We went to Hunan Bay and saw destruction in many quarters and along the beach. I guess luck was with us on that trip.

 They were selling silk worm larvae (worms) that people purchased and took away in brown paper lunch bags so they could munch them on the beach. Some of the larvae was smoked, but in either case we were not buyers.

Later, we took a wild taxi ride into Seoul. Today it is a huge modern city, but outdoor markets still thrive. If you stand at one end of the city, you can see open-air stalls as far as the eye can see. 

North Korea is only a few miles across the border from Seoul. While we were there college students were rioting and demonstrating for the North. My parents were terribly worried about us; but as it turned out, we saw a crowd of no more than 50 people. The photographers had made the scene placed in newspapers around the world look like a mob of hundreds.

Since that time I’ve always been skeptical of the reports in the news. They usually hype up the violence and problems and make them look larger and worse than they actually are.

Cheju do Island

We also traveled to Cheju do Island to see some of the damage from the monsoon. Luckily most of the island at that time was farmland.

These little statues are everywhere on Cheju do. They represent good luck.

During another trip to this same Island, my son married a Korean girl whose father was a building contractor. They were wed on the island of Cheju do in a hotel her father had built. First they had a traditional marriage in her parent’s home, and then a contemporary wedding on Chejudo.

Does the weather affect the artwork in these Middle Eastern and Far Eastern countries that experience monsoons on a yearly basis? Definitely! Not only did I find many photographs, but fine art that clearly represents the turmoil and angst that accompany violent weather.

 

The Snowbirds miss the Heat and with it, the Beauty

Poinciana Tree, ferny leaves, fiery red blooms

Every time our friends go back up North to their abandoned winter homes, our neighborhood turns into a ghost town. While they’re gone (approximately six months), I’m reminded of how much they all miss.

Sure it’s hot down here, but the daily rains banish our muggy temperatures and give us brief relief. Yes, it’s uncomfortably hot outside, but so is Indiana, Washington D.C., Georgia, Maryland, New York, and many other states in the summer.

What are these part-time residents missing out on? The poinciana trees are at their prime! Their glorious orange-red florets cascade into pompoms down every branch. They are joined by white sweet-smelling jasmine and multi-colored hibiscus and Mexican petunias.

Even better, the restaurants are only half-filled; no standing in line for a table. The stores are competing with 70% off sales and the cafes have reduced price Happy Hours. The added attention we get in the way of service allows us to eat out more often. Movie theaters are never sold out. There is plenty of parking at the Malls.

I’m not bragging. I’m elated that the traffic is less and that the beaches take half the time to get to and enjoy. We have Fort Myers all to ourselves, we locals. In spite of the heat, this is the time we enjoy best for all it has to offer.

Toppled tree after Hurricane Wilma.

Yes, hurricane season is upon us, but I’ll swap this over the tornadoes and floods they’re having in the Midwest. We can either evacuate to safer areas, or hunker down depending on the directives. We are seasoned Floridians. We have lived here year round for almost 13 years.

We rode out Charlie and Wilma. We were luckier than many who not only lost their electricity for several weeks, but their homes were destroyed as well. We’re far enough from the beaches to avoid flooding, and close enough to enjoy its gritty offerings when we choose.

Palm trees sometimes lost their tops.

Our neighborhood has had a few scrapes with the weather. We’ve had to replace a few lanais’ (patio cages), and a few trees, but all in all we’ve weathered the storms better than some other areas. 

Every year we make our checklist of hurricane preparedness. We purchase the bottles of water. See that the “igloos” and food coolers are clean and ready. Purchase food we can warm up on a charcoal grill if the electricity is down. We’re pros! We’re survivors.

A banyan tree was almost totally destroyed.

Photo taken 13 years ago in Pine Island.

Sometimes we fly away to see friends and family with the hopes of cooling off. But then we discover their homes are less comfortable than our own because they refuse to use their air conditioning system. They’ve just come through a brutal cold winter, and the heat is too precious to waste.

We do the same in the winter. A good month is when we’ve braved the 45-55 degree weather outside and didn’t turn on the thermostat.

Our blood has grown thinner. Our teeth chatter when it gets below 60. But when the August sunshine reaches 99 or above, we’re still going strong!

Several years later, I turned that photo into an oil painting.