She plunges into the dark of a tunnel with the same unflinching determination, the same open fascination for discovery that she brings to the cold of a mountain lake. This tunnel joins the Rose Garden on the one end (it was one of her namesake grandmother’s favorite spots in town) and a much-beloved kiddie park on the other.
Helps that there’s a light at the end of this one. ‘Spose that’s the defining element of a tunnel: they do in fact end, at some point. Note to self.