The Daily Beast has a nice little piece today on Wilson "Snowflake" Bentley, the bachelor Vermont farmer whose early experiments photographing snowflakes gave us some truly fantastical images.

Years ago I attended a talk by Bentley's biographer Duncan Blanchard, who noted that the first time Bentley showed his images to his neighbors, back in 1910 at the little town hall in Jericho, Vermont, only six people showed up! I  thought that was the saddest thing and wondered what it must have felt like to want to share these beautiful images that no one wanted to look at.

This, from Blanchard's book:

His tragedy was the wall of silence that greeted his work during these years. When asked toward the end of his life what his neighbors thought of him, Bentley replied,

Oh, I guess they've always believed I was crazy, or a fool, or both. Years ago, I thought they might feel different if they understood what I was doing. I thought they might be glad to understand. So I announced that I would give a talk in the village and show lantern slides of my pictures. They are beautiful, you know, marvelously beautiful on the screen. But when the night came for my lecture just six people were there to hear me. It was free, mind you! And it was a fine, pleasant evening, too. But they weren't interested.

But Bentley kept on, following his passion, and now his images are viewed the world over.

Blanchard's book is probably the best one out there, if a little dry. But if you're looking for a great book for your kids or grandchildren, I'd recommend  Snowflake Bentley by Jacqueline Briggs, with illustrations by Vermont artist Mary Azarian.

There's a small museum dedicated to Snowflake in the Red Mill in Jericho, and on the little common in town, there's a placard about him and his work.

On a trip through the area, we tried to find his house, and the only way you'd know it was his is by the big snowflake just above the second floor windows facing the road. 

The next time you're in the midst of a blizzard or about to give up on something you love, it's worth thinking about the value and beauty of a single snowflake, and persistence of Wilson Bentley.