Light in the Trees

From the book At the end of our visit in the big snow, I hiked the mountain behind Dad’s house with my brother, stepping into his size 13 footprints. With trail signposts long buried, we kept to the main road, a route once used for logging. Although almost every trip home included this steep climb, I’d never hiked it in two feet of snow. The muffled whiteness made it difficult to tell how far we’d come, how much farther we had to go. More than once I sat on a log saying I’d stay there and w...