This photo of me and and my bro, Phil, was taken in our front yard in the winter of 1972. You’ll notice we’re holding onto the rope of our sled, which we must have been pulling each other around on. I have pretty strong memories of playing in the snow in Ohio. I love the snow and wanted to be out in it, but I also loved how the snow looked untouched, right after it had fallen and there were no footprints or tire tracks in it. So I remember feeling conflicted about “ruining” it. Such a conundrum!
Because I only had one photo from this day, but I wanted to feature a closer look at the two of us in addition to the whole scene, I enlarged the focal area of the photo and printed it again.
by Robert Louis Stevenson
Late lies the wintry sun a-bed,
A frosty, fiery sleepy-head;
Blinks but an hour or two; and then,
A blood-red orange, sets again.
Before the stars have left the skies,
At morning in the dark I rise;
And shivering in my nakedness,
By the cold candle, bathe and dress.
Close by the jolly fire I sit
To warm my frozen bones a bit;
Or with a reindeer-sled, explore
The colder countries round the door.
When to go out, my nurse doth wrap
Me in my comforter and cap;
The cold wind burns my face, and blows
Its frosty pepper up my nose.
Black are my steps on silver sod;
Thick blows my frosty breath abroad;
And tree and house, and hill and lake,
Are frosted like a wedding-cake.