It’s just a peculiar winter. I was out jogging last night, after dark, down Revolutionary roads. Past signs for Indian footpaths that are now named after colonists. Houses from 17– that have cable internet. They glowed, the warmth of density. In years past the glow might pull up a chair on the Massachusetts snow-drifts, out in front of windows, to spend a few hours. But our lawns are without snow and our light wanders on. The ponds are fully melted. Weeks back they’d have still held a … [Read more...]