The mercury has dropped well below zero and the moon looks like a glowing ball of ice. At a friend’s house in the country further west from town, the snow lays on the ground like a bright blanket. I might never have gone outside but it’s a glorious night out. He revs up his snowmobile and takes the kids one at a time up and down over the hills and through the stands of timber on his small farm. His truck idles on his drive with its hi-beams lighting the slope away from the house. The kids swirl into the swale below in snow saucers, steering clear of the spruce trees at the bottom. After a few runs the hillside slickens and the rides down go faster and the wipeouts get wilder and then there is hot chocolate inside to help us forget the clods of snow inside the necks of our jackets and our tingling toes.