Brooks pointed to the Big Dipper and then showed us how to find the North Star by following a lineup through the two end stars of the Dipper’s ladle. The number and intensity of the stars were beyond anything I had ever seen.
Tall evergreens, dark black, framed an inky blue sky and a sea of starlight. We reached a small clearing with a skating pond. The air was biting, and the snow underfoot crunched and squeaked a tune you hear only when the temperature nears single digits. To an 11-year-old, she was the embodiment of adventure. She was young – mid-twenties, my best guess, full of positive energy and ready to make a game of anything. Brooks, chaperoned an overnight ski trip to Maine’s western mountains.
I was 11 years old, in fifth grade, when I learned how to find the North Star.
