Tracks in Snow | Wenatchee, WA | December 2019
As kids we’d stand on the town’s tracks and play the game “Where To?” It forced us to study maps, so we’d know that far north — beyond those converging, disappearing rails — rose Memphis, St. Louis and the great mystery of Chicago. We had Yankee cousins up there who lived exotic lives. In summer, they spoke in the language of baseball statistics and, in winter, wore thermal underwear. We occasionally got photos of them on sleds in snow and imagined igloos and icebergs. Now I can’t cross a railroad track without mentally boarding a train for “where to.” I click-clack thataway, speeding towards the vanishing point, wondering what adventures await.