For this winter, I'm aiming low. I asked for some cold days and at least one pure and perfect flake of snow. That must seem idiotic to people who measure their snow in feet. But here it's beautiful.
|Ice house in Dr. Zhivago|
The film Dr. Zhivago came out when I was fifteen, and the scene that always swept me away was Yuri in the "ice house" writing poetry as he knew the world was about the collapse around him. That, I thought, is who I am.
Still is, almost fifty years later.