A really good snow storm is blowing. The light on the flying snow makes the street look all smudgy- halloween orange and charcoal. It’s like the ones I remember as a kid where they canceled school the night before and we’d wake up on time- even though we didn’t have to- and see from the bedroom window everything piled white.
One of those snowy mornings, my dad borrowed a front-end loader from my grandfather’s garage and cleared our driveway and sidewalk and the neighbors’ driveways and even some of the street and built up a mountain of snow
against a telephone pole in front of our house. We kids- always too tired to shovel snow or bring in wood for the stove or take out ashes or do any other chores- tunneled through it that morning. After a lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, we snuck pots and pans of water from the house
and splashed them on the hollowed mound and made an icy fort big enough for three of us to sit in at once.