It is Sunday morning, at Burning Man, around 10:00 am. It is just about to get hot and crusty. I had missed the morning sunrise for some reason and am now in a bit of a hurry to get myself to the temple. I am wearing my white feathered embodiment, and carrying my wings. Bobcat is with me, and we both make our way towards the esplanade. I can feel the heat of the day coming on, and wonder how long I will be able to stand it in all those feathers. As we get to the esplanade, it begins snowing, little flakes. As we walk further, seeking Abraxas and our family, I notice the sky is dark, like night. The snowflakes are piling up in people's camps and on art installations. These snowflakes are about two and a half inches in diameter. some of them are literal mathematic equations, with numbers and signs arranged into the shape of a dinner cracker. Some of them are more square shaped, and very simple in pattern. I pick my favorites up and I eat them, like crispy ice wafers. They were strangely beautiful and delicious.