A friend from home suggested that walking in the deep, dark January freeze might be beautiful. No stranger to challenges, I bundled up and trudged south a few miles.
Sometimes, I feel like her, looking out towards something I can’t see; a girl trapped in a granite state.
Winter is like granite. It’s cold, beautiful, and lonely. I think some hockey will be required to make it through what’s left of it.
Can I get some Beanpot?