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COLUMN: Tales from the Gravel Ridge - Memories of mountains
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COLUMN: Tales from the Gravel Ridge - Memories of mountains
We had mountains in our community. In the conventional sense of the word they were not really mountains, but when the snowplough first made its way down the gravel ridge in Rosengard many decades ago, it looked for all the world as if they were mountains. The snowfall must have been exceptionally heavy that year, back in the 1950s, and to the eyes of Rosengard’s children those enormous mounds of snow must surely have taken on the features of mou…
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