Exploits of Miss Mavis V: First patters of snow

And so Miss Mavis continued to follow her compass southbound for Antarctica.
All things were sailing well above cup so she decided to go down into the galley for an afternoon nap on her hammock. After five or six minutes of slow deep breaths Miss Mavis drifted into a deep sleep. She dreamt of her childhood adventures, of painting her house sage green when she got back home, and of guinea pigs wearing pith helmets (which is a ridiculous notion; but then again dreams are often riddled with them)

A couple of hours later as a cosy Miss Mavis began to stir from her nap, she heard a gentle patter overhead. Could it be a storm approaching again? But the ocean seemed so calm she thought to herself. I will poke my head out for a look she resolved.
And when she did she discovered that the gentle patter was being made by falling snow! The first snow of her adventure to

She was so excited she clapped her hands and did a little dance (the kind one does when you feel snow after fifteen years of not feeling it at all)
Miss Mavis held out her mitten-clad hands to catch the tiny white flakes as they flurried and fell in the breeze.
With a nice handful of snow she went back down to galley to do some sketching of the snowflakes. She found her sketch book, some blue pens, pencils and her great-grandfather Felix's extraordinarily powerful magnifying glass.

With the magnifier in one hand and a pen in the other she began to sketch what she saw:

And sang,

Oh to be a snowflake,
one two three
to be one like no other,
and to drift in breeze -

Oh to be a snowflake
four five six

to twirl and spin
and dance and skip,

Oh to be a snowflake
seven eight nine
to ice the hill and mountain tops
and in the dusk light shine!

Oh to be a snowflake

to be a snowflake ten,
whisking and a melting
on the tongues of children!

**Check back in a week for the next installment of Miss Mavis' voyage to Antarctica** 

To read more of her past exploits go HERE.