We danced with the elements; water, air, earth, and wood. Flitting, floating downward above the earth,
but never more a part of it. Equal time spent in the air above the snow as on it or in it.
The mountain held us though. Our whoops of joy and laughter not echoing and leaving the woods,
but swallowed up by the soft snow that blanketed everything,
held onto by our loving Mother.
More than 45 inches of snow were freshly deposited by Mother Nature for,
in our minds,
She left this here for us.
She wants us to play.
We feel it. Drawn by her energy to the mountains,
every hour with snow beneath our boards and skis passes more enjoyably than almost any other way.
So play, we did,
shredding hidden stashes of fluffy powder for hours on end.
Even though we had not caught the storm at its height,
we were fortunate that our brothers and sisters left us stashes of perfect powder to prance through.
Indeed, Jay Peak’s trees seemed to be our partner in this waltz all day.
In a typical winter, I would have had more than a dozen such dances by now.
This year, however, our Mother,
long abused by man,
is withholding her white bounty from her children in our neck of the woods. Hopefully, we learn from her punishment,
so we can continue the dance until we are old and gray,
teach it to the next generations,
linking our blood to the earth that bore it.