I could recall coming in from skating, or from sledding, and the world was quiet for a moment, was sincere in a way it could not always be sincere, and as eager as you were to be inside, to be warm and contained, it was difficult to leave the outside world, to say good-bye to all the air and wind and freedom. I always felt a traitor by going inside, as if I turned my back on a dear friend. I felt that now. When I stepped off the boat onto the solid framing of the pier, I felt my childhood beside me.
