The Chemistry of Snow Jacqueline Pennington

Crystals fell from the sky, images of a never-seen winter wonderland falling into place. Snow flurries drifted through the air; a faded yellow fluorescent light from the rundown Chinese restaurant radiated through each flake, reflecting the excitement I could hardly contain at the spectacle of snow. I had recently moved to the frigid suburbs of Minnesota from my frequently drought-ridden hometown of San Jose when I first interacted with this substance.

On my first day, I stretched down to grab a handful of snow and eat it, just like in those Hallmark movies and felt disillusioned when the corrosive flavor of salt covered my tongue instead. This was the first taste of my new home and the science that eventually engulfed my high school life. That night, I went home inquiring why this cubic compound looked so similar to the idyllic snow that had once captivated me. Why did snow and salt look so alike, their structures almost identical to the naked eye, yet cause drastically different reactions when eaten? Questions mounted, and I needed to uncover why salt and snow were so similar yet so different. I dove into textbooks, studying elemental makeup, Avogadro's law, bonding theory, answering the questions I had and, at the same time,...