strongly conversation of wind
I am of two minds about the dearth of snow this winter. On the one hand, aside from wanting one big snow, the kind of snow that stops the commute, closes the school, allows the dog to romp in ridiculous ways in the deep drifts, allows the boys to climb on top of the small mountain of snow that the plows push to the corner of Curve Street and Hart Farm Road, I am content without the heavy snows, content with my specific, Tracy Brown worries about slipping on the walkway, or driving through snowstorms, or losing power and sleeping on the couch in front of the fire, in the dark night. On the other hand: the earth. There seem to be competing names for the psychological disorder marked by anxiety and depression about the plight of the planet--eco-anxiety, climate anxiety, or my favorite, climate grief. The twins have homework this February vacation--a project on the Iditarod where they map out the race and pick a musher to follow during the race. The cosmic question of how long such a ra