Paul Keegan

Snow on snow

It blurs and defines, exhilarates and exhausts — and each snowflake is self-identical but different to every other. Marcus Sedgwick is fully alive to its chilling paradoxes

issue 10 December 2016

Here is William Diaper in 1722, translating Oppian’s Halieuticks (a Greek epic poem on the loves of the fishes):

As when soft Snows, brought down by
Western Gales,
Silent descend and spread on all the Vales . . .
Nature bears all one Face, looks coldly bright,
And mourns her lost Variety in White.
Unlike themselves the Objects glare around,
And with false Rays the dazzled Sight
confound.






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