Snowflakes:
In a way, snowflakes are like people. No two are the same. They may be similar, but they were still unique. Their designs could be sharp of soft. They could be round or straight edged. They could be big or small, thin or thick.
Who did all of this? Who's job was to make no two snowflakes the same?
Jack Frost.
In a way, Jack Frost was an artist. None of his flakes were alike. Each was a creation of his imagination. They reflected on who he was and his emotions at the time just by their design.
Jack Frost was an artist. He may not paint eggs like the Easter Bunny, but he was a sculptor. He froze waves the way he wanted them, froze fountains to capture their beauty, made icicles to dangle from the edges of roofs and cave ceilings. He created the landscape the way he wanted, blanketing the ground in white, bending the trees with the weight of his snowflakes. Snowflakes, little beings of white, bent the trees to their will.
Then there was frost. After all, it was his last name. He frosted the windows, it creeping onto them in floral designs to make drawing boards for children. It covered the leaves and grass. It coated spider webs, making them shine with what used to morning dew.
In a way, snow and frost sent the forests into sleep only to be awakened in spring after winter was chased away.
But once a year in these places, Jack Frost's master pieces filled those forest with white.
After all, no two snowflakes were the same.
.../\...
Just a lil' something I've been thinking about since I first heard of the movie. I just never wrote about it until now. Hope you like. I'll try to post the next drabble by Sunday or Monday.
