The snow in the Alaskan arctic really is quite unusual as it falls. As I’m from Washington, a much more wet area, I’m used to freezing clumps of rain-things dropping on my head and shoulders as I duck for cover.
Alaska really is quite a different experience, though. It often comes down slowly, but occasionally you see a huge downfall of this dry snow at once. It even sparkles as it catches the light, and the flakes are tiny instead of big and clumpy, making it appear as though tiny, glittering crystals are gracing your presence as you walk outside the well-lit semi-wilderness. I was walking along the path to my home, surrounded by trees as well as street lamps, with a perfect view of the mountains, when the snow hit. Slowly at first, but quickly gathering speed, and suddenly I was in the middle of a snowfall. But it was nothing like the unpleasant experience of snow I’m used to in Washington; the flakes were gentle as they covered my winter coat. Suddenly my outfit changed from black to white. I felt like dancing. I stuck my tongue out into the fall, twirled in a circle, and wished more than anything that somebody could tell me, at that moment, that I was beautiful.