The cold nylon of my swimming trunks crackles beneath snow-pants. My wool socks are damp, pooled around my ankles, snow finding its way down the top of my untied boots. My daughter and I are looking for the sauna. It's 8pm in a far-northern latitude; moonless and black. The snow is gray and luminescent as we puff through drifts, crunch over ice.
She's giddy. And terrified. Her first time, in a new swimsuit her mom packed, with questions about how it will all work.
"Will it hurt, Dad? Is it dangerous?"
I tell her it won't, and it isn't, even though I don't really know (being a first-timer myself).
And finally we find it. A hundred years… read more