Crossings

The copious snow went the way of the tunamelt yesterday and revealed that the grass beneath it was still green as green can be. Today the freeze is back on. Two decades in Germany and still I’m adjusting to celcius, with its significant degrees. How easy it is to get negative. Maybe that’s part of the weight on the national personality. In Kansas one winter I had a Jeep and went ice skidding across the highway smack up against the rail that looked many meters down onto a milomaize field. I sat there stunned. “Almost bought the farm,” I said to myself stupidly, unable even at that moment to resist the pun. That accident isn’t where I got my limp, though. My limp is the result of childhood crush. And the crick in my neck comes from caring.