Mike Fitzgerald’s review of a book in the Finger Lakes Times (Jan. 3, “Write On”), about building community and front porches, made me homesick for summer.

It isn’t the cold. Heck no. I resonate with the lyric from First Aid Kit’s 2012 hit song, “Emmylou: “Stockholm’s cold, but I’ve been told I was born to endure this kind of weather.” It is DNA kind of stuff — you, too, probably, if you still live in the Finger Lakes all year.

I get some kind of perverse pleasure the colder it is in the morning or late at night, bundling up and walking the dog. One of the things I miss most about living up in Vermont on the border with Quebec is an 11 p.m. walk down our rural drive in sub-zero temperatures. Feeling small beneath a sprawling dome of brilliant stars overhead, and the earth below quiet as a grave. So quiet we could hear........

© Finger Lakes Times