Magic. There's no other word for it: what happened in the mountains overnight was pure magic and we wake up awed by it.
(predawn light)
I don't know how many inches of snow fell last night. Enough to bury your short boot -- Snowdrop will tell you. Enough to cover the landscape with something that you rarely see if you dont live in the mountains: every house, every tree branch carrying a fluff of white diamonds. Because there's sunshine too.
How could we be so lucky to have a day like this!
Breakfast first, of course. By now we know what we like.
(view out the dining room window)
And then we are to split up. Snowdrop and her mom are to stay back and read or rest. Me, I want that walk in the forest. To see it, smell it, feel the humility that is always mine when I walk beneath the sheltering branches. And as I get ready to head out Snowdrop changes her mind: I want to come! -- she tells me.
I smile at that. If you come, it's magic times three over -- I say to her. Because of course, a walk in the forest is going to be grand. To share it with her? That's just awesome.
And it just gets better and better.
True, her boots are too short and snow packs into them pretty quickly. I give her my stick and use cleats on my own boots, but we're really not equipped for a big snow walk. I don't care.
I just cant stop marveling at the beauty of it.
A tiny gust of wind and a million sparkles fly off the branches. I try for a timed release. Misfocused, but charming nonetheless!
How could you not be awed by the world right now!
We pass several hikers. French people out with their dogs. A cross country skier. A couple chatting, with big grins on their faces.
Eventually she is totally drenched with snow and I've had my time of rapture. This is the snow I've missed so much back home. This is how it's supposed to be. This is what I love best about winter!
And we were given this gift of magic and I am so totally grateful.
Lunch again at noon. The three of us head down the hill.
We're thinking pizza, but the place is closed. What's this? The Montagnard -- our Friday dinner place is serving lunch? With tables outside in the sunshine? We sprint to get a table. It comes with a hat for the sun, a blanket for the lap and... a bear.
It's slightly colder than the previous days and a few clouds do start to roll in, but still, there's plenty of warmth all around us.
And then it's time for Snowdrop to ski. There's a bit of discussion as to how much she should push herself. She did the big mountain yesterday. She wants to hang back on the easier trails today. I dont know how they will resolve it and I dont know what the proper strategy should be. I stick around only for her first run down the easy slope.
And then I leave them to it, because I have a scheduled back rub this afternoon. To let loose those muscles tensed by, well, life, the fall, the news, the worries of everyday.
[I ask her when she returns -- how was it? Amazing! I want to come back, here, and ski with Matthieu! Did he let you stay on the begginer's slope? No: he said either gondola or t-bar. I chose t-bar. It was steep and I went down all by myself! This is what mastering the difficult feels like...]
In the evening we set out for L'Etoile des Neiges. How appropriate -- "the star of the snows."
(ready to go!)
It's the closest of the restaurants. Just down the hill a handful of minutes.
And it is very lovely. With food that would have an ambitious skier feel satiated. Cheese, so much good cheese! Cream, delicious concoctions with potatoes, wild mushrooms, salamis and meats (which I have to quickly push to the side or else!)...
... and even the wild blueberries, smothered in more cream and bits of meringue -- all of it artfully and tastefully prepared.
We stumble home!
There's absolutely nothing good about the weather forecast for tomorrow. But how could you complain! We've had one day of perfection, followed by the next, followed by better yet.
We are happy.
with love...
