As I write this I am looking at a most beautiful view. Through four long casement windows fixed with opened blinds, I am watching fat snowflakes descend straight down with a pretty, almost stage-effected uniformity. The branches of the white maple tree are long and low and covered with white. …
So, in the midst of all of this peacefulness, all this wonder… why is it I am longing for baseball?
As I extoll and enjoy this silence, I know I am already antsy to hear the crack of a bat, the whiff of a ball into a glove. …
