Snow   What you cannot name, you cannot perceive — so goes the claim. And then they trot out Snow: Exhibit A. Eskimos, some believe, have fourteen, or forty-three, words for snow (estimates vary), so their wintry world is rich with nuance; they can discuss snow with discernment, like boys discussing girls, whereas, enfeebled by our one word, snow, our meager English tally, we’re rendered blind to snow that falls in dreams of snow, to snow that dogs have rolled in, all the many kinds of drifted snow, graupel, grits, popcorn snow, Sierra cement, styro-snow, champagne powder, pack ice, poo ice, rock ice, corn snow, cauliflower, crud, crust, mush, frozen rain, slippery slop . . .                            We’re oblivious to snow.     © Michael Fleming Brattleboro, Vermont March 2016