Ray Bradbury wrote All Summer in a Day, a book that has haunted me since I first read it as a kid. It’s the penultimate story of bullying and life as an outsider. I’ve sympathized with Margot, the main character, and continue to feel pangs of the pain and injustice Bradbury masterfully reflects.
What we have going on today is quite the opposite. In North Carolina we have All Winter in a Day. Today is a day that schools and offices are closed and literally not one single car has ventured out on the parkway I live on. Kids from around the neighborhood are racing down the hill next to our house. I hear gleeful sounds emanating from the park as I sit crouched at the kitchen table, still chilled from the lousy 20 minutes I spent outside. Bird and Deal are likely woefully underdressed and have been sledding for a good 90 minutes. Ah, sledding, winter’s Sisyphean activity. The children are sharing sleds, trading sleds, riding tandem, giving tips, and taking turns playing lookout for cars (an easy job today).
All Winter in a Day bears the marks of winsome childhood joy, unadulterated by the nag of responsibility. While the cold weather frolicking is a fleeting novelty here, the memories will be lasting.
