Panorama

The first snow. It's two weeks early. I quickly dig out my skis and wax them in the small space of my kitchen. The sun is setting and the snow keeps falling. 30 minutes later I'm clicking my boots into the bindings and slide forward through the white stuff. I weave through the trees and decide the glow of lights from the city in the distance is enough to see by. I turn off my headlamp. It feels good to finally be back here. I get to my favorite bridge where the view opens wide. I stop and take it in. I spin my head from left to right: the pond is starting to freeze; the spruce trees are a perfect silhouette against the pink city lights; the trail ahead is framed by branches laden with snow. I keep turning my head and to the right is the lake, the glacier, and the distant sound of the waterfall. I close my eyes to make sure it imprints itself and I can't help but smile. And so another winter begins.