I thought that was an awful lot to remember from something as simple as lightning in a snowstorm, but Dr. Nokes laughed and said one day I too would remember hard winters in detail more voluminous than anyone would care to hear. I suppose he was right and you don't give a chipped dime for December of '62, but it was an epic season all the same, the drifts rising eventually past the kitchen window and up to the very eaves. In the afternoons Swede and I, in layers of pants, would step from the highest snowbank onto the roof of the single story addition, then climb to the peak and go skidding down the other side to land with a poof in the front yard. How we missed Davy! In such snow he'd have led us into all sorts of thrilling and jeopardous traps-- our backyard would've been veined with tunnels and candlelit caverns; our snowball wars would've been prolonged and ferocious.
-from Peace Like a River by Leif Enger
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