Snow and Frost


Snow is always filled with memories of my childhood in Quebec. Every day we played in the snow, made snow people, angles in the snow, fed the birds, and what I just loved, was looking at the frost on the window panes and imagining they were maps to far away places. Later, Mum lived in the country and asked a friend to build her what was a totally useless little bridge across a very shallow depression in her garden and it just had to be painted red. I loved the bridge in summer and loved the bridge in winter. Her old tomato cages rusted at the other end of the garden.

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