My favorite season is spring, but when winter comes I am hoping for snow. We in northern Illinois have not gotten much of it so far this year, until recently when several inches fell.
I enjoy the quiet and calm of the falling snow.
Freshly fallen snow absorbs sound. The air pockets between snowflakes actually trap soundwaves and lessen noise vibrations.
Snowflakes form when the temperatures drop below freezing and water vapor condenses into ice, bypassing the liquid stage. The ice crystals form and fall to the ground as one-of-a-kind six-pointed snowflakes.
I found this explanation of the formation of snowflakes from the Institution of Engineering and Technology: Snowflakes form when water vapor condenses on tiny ice nuclei in cold, supersaturated air. As the water vapor freezes, it arranges itself into a hexagonal lattice due to the hydrogen bonds between water molecules.
The hexagon structure creates the six sides of a snowflake. As the snowflake grows, additional water molecules attach to the existing crystal lattice, forming intricate branches and patterns.
Before the shovels or snow blowers come out when dawn is just awakening, it’s nice to stand outside and experience a certain kind of peace you never feel except at this time in winter. You can also ponder the critters that came out at night, especially the squirrels and rabbits with their telltale tracks.
Rabbits have hind feet that are much larger than their forefeet, and you can see that arrangement atop the snow and also the direction the rabbit was headed. You can also see the four pads on both their front and back feet.
Though rabbits can be a nemesis in winter, nibbling on anything they can find including my recently planted American plum tree, I still enjoy seeing their tracks. I imagine them emerging into the new snow, bounding in the fluffy stuff, that’s even softer than their fur.
I love reading Sigurd Olson’s description of the snowshoe hares or rabbits that come out to dance in winter in Minnesota. In his book, “The Singing Wilderness,” he explains how the rabbits jump and romp on the soft snow beneath a glowing full moon, and if I close my eyes I can imagine I’m there watching with him.
Snow especially benefits the creatures that live up north, for example the sharp-tailed grouse that burrow into white layers to stay warm in winter. Though the top surface of the ground may seem cold as ice, the soil beneath can still be warm enough for insects and reptiles to survive winter. I wonder how animals that have come to rely on snow have been adapting as the climate changes.
Snow also can reflect sunlight into the atmosphere. Without snow, the ground absorbs much more of the sun’s energy, leading to changes in the heating and cooling of the Earth.
Snow seems to act as a natural air freshener. It feels clean outside after a newly fallen snow. As snow forms, it can latch onto pollutants in the atmosphere. As the snow falls, however, it begins to “scrub” away some of the pollutants, and the longer it falls to the Earth, the cleaner the air around you seems.
Maybe I’m more enamored with snow this winter because there has been so much less of it for the past several years in northern Illinois. I recall winters with several feet of snow on the ground, tromping up to my thighs to walk to my grandparent’s house.
I remember complaining because I couldn’t make it to my father’s birthday party. Snow had forced the closure of many roads, including tollways. This year, I’ve been complaining about the lack of snow.
Snow is good for the environment and the wildlife. It slowly melts as winter turns into spring, adding moisture to the groundwater, lakes, rivers and wetlands, all of which provide important resources to humans and wildlife.
It’s also a source of water for animals, including black-capped chickadees that dip their tiny beaks into the snow to extract some moisture. I enjoy watching birds sitting atop a snow-laden branch and quenching their thirst.
Though snow can cause hazardous conditions when driving, I am grateful for it when it falls, softly carving out some sorely needed calm and stillness.
Sheryl DeVore has worked as a full-time and freelance reporter, editor and photographer for the Chicago Tribune and its subsidiaries. She’s the author of several books on nature and the environment. Send story ideas and thoughts to sheryldevorewriter@gmail.com.
