A First Amendment Exercise
"It was snowing. It was always
snowing at Christmas. December, in my memory, is white as Lapland, though
there were no reindeer.
But there were cats. Patient, cold and callous, our hands wrapped in
socks, we waited to snowball the cats. Sleek and long as jaguars and horrible-whiskered,
spitting and snarling, they would slink and sidle over the white-backed
garden walls, and the lynx-eyed hunters, [Emily and i], fur-capped and moccasined
trappers from Hudsons's Bay,
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off Mumbles Road,
would hurl our deadly snowballs at the green of their eyes.
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The wise cats never appeared."*
A Family Orchard |
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