My alarm goes off way too early this morning...but then I remember...
It's actually snowing out today!!
Jumping out of bed, it's pitch dark and I trip over Vespi laying at the foot of the bed, and then wake up the boyfriend by grabbing the covers off the bed in a desperate attempt to break my fall.
Definitely not my best start.
It's up the mountain we go, and I can feel it, that little bit of float that comes with truly fresh snow. It's a feeling that we've been missing, been longing - no, yearning - for since practically Thanksgiving. Seriously, has it been that long?
All thoughts of yesterdays slip further from my mind with each stride up toward the summit. My tips are finally being used for their true purpose: plowing through feather light snow.
Welcome Home, Winter, my old friend.
I have missed your blizzard breezes and your drifting snow
your early mornings and late evenings of pure solitude
It is my own private world, no noise but the falling of fresh snow and the slide of my skins underneath my feet. A light whoo, and a whoo again...as Vespi and I make our way up to the summit in hopes of finding that float, that magic, that sheer heaven that is powder skiing.
A puppie treat and the removal of skins mark the entry way into a whole new world, where gravity becomes a playmate in our dance with the mountain. A few big and enthusiastic woofs to mark the beginning of the descent
Oh my, it's wonderful.
May You Find the Spirit of the Mountains Within You,