We are children of the cold, born of the high, grey womb of winter, released to drift with myriad brothers and sisters to settle and smother; silence and soothe. We are hated by many; loved by more. We are a bringer of joy, a maker of misery, a creator of chaos, a licenser of excess. We are a symbol of peace, a symbol of purity, an emblem of the bland, the insignia of the faithless. We have no allegiance to colour, because we are all colours. We kill, yet we save. We are cold, yet we are the most intense of heats. We are contradiction. We are snowflake.
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