My writing-for-paycheck involves synonym work, which may seem tedious, but the thing about synonyms is they’re fun. This morning, picking up broken glass from a shattered window, I sliced my finger. Bright crimson fell on unmarked snow. Gory? Sanguine? The snow cover is so scattered yet the blood drops disappeared in hoarfrost: the opened sod beginning to freeze for the winter. The earth? The ground? The soil?

Like a snowflake, each word is singular, reflecting meaning in different hues.

penstla         the idea of snow
mortla          snow mounded on dead bodies 
ylaipi          tomorrow's snow
nylaipin        the snows of yesteryear ("neiges d'antan") 
pritla          our children's snow
nootlin         snow that doesn't stick 
rotlana         quickly accumulating snow
skriniya        snow that never reaches the ground
bluwid          snow that's shaken down from objects in the wind 

–– From the Inuit 100 Words for Snow

Photo by Molly S.