From Issue 17: In the Wake of the Storm, When Snow Had Reached the Rooftops

Rodney Torreson   my brother Dean crawled through the bathroom window and carved a path to the door. Later, while father dug for the tractor and loader, we cut channels so high through the white, that from the house to the barn and to the pig pens and beyond, birds winged through them as daylight reveled, marbling the maze’s walls. The goodwill of neighbors after such a storm brushed not only us but the spirit of the cattle and hogs— the horses as well—though, if any livestock cleared snow, we never saw it. Yet time and again they leaned in,…

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