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