The sight of snow falling in the dark through a paned window links memories for me. I can feel the pink velvet couch of my childhood living room under my fingertips, even as I glance out to the fluttering flurries at night.

Ice’s visual appeal is the way it bends both light and dark. Cloudy marbles into clear — bending the eye. Your vision picks up only contrast and blurred shapes.

It begs the question — is ice really white or is it a rainbow?