Friday, February 12, 2010


Snow piled along the sidewalk and the roads looked very much like clotted cream last night, but held up under the feet of the three who traversed the ridge, enjoying the rare height, testing each step for its solidity. The act of walking was far more sonic than usual. We passed piles of snow into which children had scraped small dens, exercising dormant instincts, we passed a duo of smiley gentlemen shovelers. So it wasn't so bad that the B75 didn't come.

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