Grandmother sat at a chair beside the window. A snow fell, the first of the season. She enjoyed snowflakes highlighted by the twilight. Her mind drifted to capturing one before it melted. She wanted a little peek at the actual crystals. She once believed snowflakes were the wind’s secrets. Secrets of things people said, uncharted paths and silly regrets. The snowflakes fell so fast the wind kept its promises not to tell by sending them to the ground for melting.