Newsletter/Blog February 13, 2015: The Year of the Snow Tunnels

The snow piles bordering our driveway are now over my head, which is about normal in the Boston area this week. Boots and wet wool and fleece are making their own piles in the hall, and the straight walls cut by the snow blower have transformed the gentle path from our garage into a tunnel that is downright magical for a child.

You can practically hear the stories that will be told 50 years from now by today’s eight-year-olds: “When I was a kid, we had real snow.” It reminds me of the stories my grandfather used to tell of the blizzard of 1888, when he was a young boy in horse and buggy days in Waterbury, CT.

He has been gone now for nearly 40 years, but I often think of him when we get a big snow. More than that, I am reminded of the astounding reach of my lifetime, that even in my imagination I am directly linked to events that happened 127 years ago.

How far out into the future will some of my own story remain? That’s an act of imagination, too, and a humbling one at that, because it’s not something any of us ultimately control. It will be other people who will be doing the story telling.

They will be the ones who might take us forward 127 years, and in my case, I hope it includes memories of being pulled through a snow tunnel on a sled in the big winter of 2015.

Happy winter, whatever your weather,

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