What Does Not Kill You

Flurries during today’s morning miles.

It snowed during our walk this morning. Strong winds but harmless flurries. It did not deter us from completing our five-mile trek.

Snow here in Northern New England is so varied. From the kitchen table, I am watching stronger gusts drive snowflakes sideways. But these are mostly toothless. Most valley storms are. They offer us blankets of drifted innocence and a return to a childhood that suddenly feels better than it actually was.

It’s like the theologian Frederick Buechner expressed in one of his essays: “It is snow that can awaken memories of things more wonderful than anything you ever knew or dreamed.”

Such airiness, a romantic vision of our past cast in golden light. There’s a pleasant haze to the lens. And yet the same snows on the mountaintops freeze, maim, and even kill. A little elevation makes a huge difference.

I cannot count the number of times Atticus and I were isolated on gray, snowy peaks miles from the nearest person when a storm d…