Snow in Spring

Walks late at night in a semi warm Portland, good food, co-incidence,

This is another book that I need to reread at a later date and immerse myself in. Despite being in the West, it clearly and vividly reminded me of the Midwest and my home. What I am and what Wisconsin is, and how that carries back to me. My childhood and my identity were momentarily refreshed. Long snowed in days where in a particular drift you make a store for people to admire your different and unique icicles. where you stay out on a dark hill by the barn that is only illuminated by a far off blue of the mysterious Night Light that just comes on whenever it is dark. How that lonely light skips and reflects off of frail clumps falling from the sky. Arms outstretched, clothed in thick bundles standing triumphantly on your creation only to run back up the hill breatheless and tube down again on a track that is finally smooth enough for speed.

I remember.

I remember everything.