I was waiting for the University shuttle the other day, and it was snowing very lightly. The temperature was probably twenty-five degrees Fahrenheit.
And the snowflakes were perfect.
I watched them as they landed on my jacket, one by one. Each was a six-pointed miracle, and all of them were different.
(I first read about this in a children’s magazine in the 1960s. I have always wanted to try it. But I know in my heart that never in a billion years would I ever get something like that to work.)
It’s nice, in any case, to think of nature’s infinite variety: that every snowflake is different from every other snowflake.
Except – surprise! – it’s not true.
Of course they are.
Linus and Lucy knew this as long ago as 1963:
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