When I stepped out of the garage this morning, it was snowing. Not much, at first, just enough to feel like a Christmas movie. By the time I’d turned my car onto the street it had changed. Big fat flakes that burst when they hit my windshield, puffing into bits soon swiped away by the wipers. On my way to the first stoplight, I have my moment of wonder. (I’m actually quite good at moments of wonder. I’ve always been able to let the sheer bliss of beauty wash over me.) And then while I wait for the green arrow, I start to think of the best way to describe the snowfall.
Big fat flakes, I think. Alliteration is dangerous, but what other words are there for snowflake? Fat is necessary, it carries the weight of them, the way they fall almost straight down. And what about the moment when they hit? Explode isn’t right. Pop is closer. Puff is almost right, but it doesn’t quite convey the force when the snowflakes hit. There is something about froth in them, something like a bubble when they collapse. The memory of slow-motion video of a bubble popping: the shimmery wave peeling back from the destructive fingertip. Burst.
Burst. Perfect.
And by that point I realize that I’ve spent only a few moments enjoying the snow, and way too much time thinking of ways to describe it.
Our minds don’t work the way most people’s do.
Tags: Life and other things, Writing
the right verb is so satisfying once you find it!