to ski

You'll grant me that I'm motivated this year. Anyone who goes out when the wind stiffens your face with every gust and the temps never move beyond 8F (-13C), insisting to a skeptical sweetie that it is perfect skiing weather is motivated.

(the tracks in the snow? all made by animals that visit the farmette lands...)

 

 

 

I blame the pandemic. It has shaken us all up for sure and even those of us who are lucky enough to not fall sick with the virus have spent many hours thinking about how much our vision and our plans for the immediate and long term future have fundamentally changed. This is particularly true for us older people. If you are a skier, you have come to understand that with each year, your skiing ambitions must grow tamer and if you are a traveler (and I certainly was that before the pandemic), then you've watched the clock tick as you've stayed stuck in your home. You ski close by and at the same time you long for one, maybe two last ski adventures. Of the type that take you to new places, where the snow is perfect and the forest fills your lungs with sap scented air. And the more you know you can't go anywhere, the more you put all your energies into skiing close by, hoping that maybe you'll get in good form for that big adventure that someday surely will be yours again.

Breakfast first.

But by noon I am ready! Ed pushes back some. The weather, leg stiffness, the icy snow cover -- he tries it all, but in the end he goes along.

And yes, it really is cold out there. Skiing into the wind is like having a thousand needles thrown at your face again and again. And it is icy. There are no classic tracks in the part of the park that we take on for today and your skis lose their forward glide easily on every slant. 

Nonetheless, it is beautiful. Winter sunshine is stunning in its contradiction: if it's a war between the cold air and the sun's warmth, then surely I think the sun handily comes out ahead. You lift your face toward its rays and you feel the world is a happy place after all. 

 

We don't stay out long, but the loop does us good.And leaves us hungry!

In the afternoon, I bake a Galette des Rois. It's a bit late for this French treat that properly belongs to January 6th, but I had this idea that baking puff pastry wrapped around an almond filling would really smell nice on a cold winter afternoon. And it did, even though I did not crimp the dough enough and some of the almond filling ran away.

The rest of the day? Oh, doing some research, just in case the pandemic magically recedes and I am able to travel again this winter. To ski, far away. One can dream!