Coming Back
It was a very special Christmas that year so long ago. As a young man my family traveled to Europe in the winter. There is something different about Europe in the winter. It is a combination of many things. The cold harkens back to my childhood Christmas’ spent in Alaska. There is purity in the air. The kind of Christmas that American’s imagine but left long ago. One where commercialism and gifts are secondary. Where cold weather is a sign for people to huddle together in conversation relishing a hot cup of mulled wine or coco. The steam of their cups collides with frigid air as it drifts upwards into the night. The smells of hot sausages wafting through markets and ginger bread baking in ovens behind frosty shop windows. Small market stalls and street side stores sell hand made goods that are as far from plastic packaged merchandise as we are from the round full moon hanging over our heads. Some how in this panicked and manic 21st century, Europe has preserved the