If my memory serves me right, it was when I was in the second grade that I first saw snow crystals.
One winter afternoon, as I stayed at home, I noticed that it had started snowing outside.
Overjoyed, I quickly stepped out onto the balcony.
I stretched out　an arm through the balcony fence in hope of catching the falling snow. Each flake that fell on the sleeve of my sweater was a beautifully shaped snow crystal.

Snow crystals were supposed to be unreal. These fantastic objects that I had believed only existed in books were endlessly falling onto my sleeve.
I was excited.
Each snow crystal was a slightly different-shaped hexagon.
Each had a slight thickness, which also surprised me.
The purity of their whiteness pierced my eyes.

Such a revelation should have urged me to call my brother or mother immediately, but I remember admiring the snow crystals alone. I wonder if I was the only one at home.
Or perhaps, I was so excited and absorbed in my discovery that I forgot to act as I usually would.

Snow is not something you often see in Yokohama, where I lived at the time.
It depends on the year, but it would usually snow two or three times a year at most.
Even then, no more than a few centimeters of snow is expected, and ten centimeters would cause traffic paralysis.

As snow is not common, a snowfall would always make the headlines.
In such a rare event, I had managed to capture snow crystals.
I still remember the sight of the snow crystals I witnessed that day, vividly.

The next morning, everything was covered in white outside.
It was quite a snowfall for Yokohama.
In some places, the snow had accumulated to the height of my hips.

I thought that I would be surrounded with piles of crystals, but I was disappointed. Nonetheless, the snow was of a beautiful white color.
When I put my face close to the snow, I sensed the smell of water, of ice, … of snow.
I couldn’t help but fetch some snow with my glove-covered hands and put it into my mouth. I was in second grade.

I had hoped for a pure, transparent taste, like that of shaved ice, from the white snow.
But, such a sweet taste could not be expected from city snow.
There was not taste. I could only detect the smell of dust. I immediately spit it out.
I felt a bit betrayed.

Nearly half a century has passed since then.
I still get excited when it snows.
But, snow crystals are harder to come by now.
Of course, I do not try to taste the snow.