On Friendship

Julia Sneden writes: She remains my touchstone, my chum, the one who remembers the big trees (now gone) that surrounded our houses, and the names of the neighbors, and the way our “come home” bells sounded at dinner time. I can envision the inside of her house, and she can remember the inside of mine, including the crawl space underneath it, and the roof where we daringly sunbathed topless.