Thoreau for a snowy Sunday…

The thin snow now driving from the north and lodging on my coat consists of those beautiful star crystals….Nature is full of genius,full of the divinity;so that not a snowflake escapes its fashioning  hand.The same law that shapes the eath-star shapes the snow-star.As surly as the pedals of a flower are fixed,each of theses countless snow-stars comes whirling to earth,producing thus,with emphasis,the number six.Order “koo uos…”What a world we live in! where myriads of those little disks,so beautiful to the most prying eye,are whirled down on every traveler’s coat…Meanwhile the meadow mouse shoves them aside in his gallery,the schoolboy casts them in his snowball, or the woodsman’s sled glides smoothly over them, these glorious spangles, the sweepings of heaven’s floor.And they all sing, melting as they sing of the mysteries of the number six,- six,six,six…He recollects and sprinkles it like grain in six-rayed snowy stars over the earth, there to lie till He dissolves its bonds again.January 5,1856.

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