Just the other week, I was checking weather.com’s Danville predictions one night, especially the hourly version (usually more accurate than for several days out).
The hourly display for the next day included random pictorial drops until 11 a.m. or so; but from about 11:30 -12:30, the drops were firmed up into that geometrical form which kids (and sometimes, old men) dream about: snow.

The prediction of that snowy hour made me think of my boyhood and the TV coverage of Mercury-Gemini-Apollo launches involving mention of a brief “window of opportunity” launch time, consisting of several hours. So 11:30 a.m.-12:30 p.m. of the next day looked like a timely window of opportunity for snow’s “launching,” but follow gravity’s dictates, the snow would only be going in one direction anyway, downwards, (although in my ASU days, those snow-making machines at Appalachian Ski Mountain seemed to be truly launching it).

Weather.com was true to its “hourly” word, and about 11:30 a.m., the raindrops’ fall appeared to slow and the drops became opaque. It seemed like I was actually seeing that transition from drops to flurries, like an instant sort of metamorphosis, much shorter than that of butterflies or moths.

As happens in these kind of pre-Winter flurries, the small flakes were soon replaced by the “50-centers” (not the famous singer’s homies, but snow flakes the size of a fifty cent piece).

Then came the dollar size (coins, not bills). Some of the big flakes resulted from several smaller flakes sticking together, reminding me of skydivers temporarily holding hands while descending in a big group.
While each flake spiraled down, I thought that if a photographic time exposure of their fall were made, the result would be akin to star trails made on film, when astronomers leave a shutter open (minus clock drive) to reveal star motion (earth’s rotation) throughout the night.

If such had been done with those “twizzling” flakes of snow, the result would have resembled an endless field of icy-white Twizzler-shaped columns. And if there were such a thing as a cold detecting scope (opposite of heat-detecting) the result would have been the same.

But the “columns” were melting so quickly at their bases, that I imagined them crossing the threshold back to rain even before reaching the ground, possibly in response to the warmer grounds’ unseen “radiance,” becoming essentially, columns without plinths.

The next door “dog walking ladies” were out with their dogs, for just as nature was doing its thing with the weather, nature was also calling upon them to “do their thing” (the dogs, not the ladies).
Even the weather had no effect on the sweet tones in the ladies’ voices while attempting to get their dogs to do that which dogs do, when taken out and walked. The loving patience of their entreaties reflected the patience of Job. They did better than many would have. I guess you could call it an example of loving potty training.

The clouds split, sunlight quickly returned, and a stirring wind carried that “drop/flurry traveling show” eastward. There wasn’t even enough time for the great “Bow in the clouds” to be set forth. But I guess it’s just as well, since that Promise wasn’t made about snow, anyway.