The snow was perfect this day, when we wove our way through secluded trees in Keystone. For every inch of snow our skis crushed, another inch was floating through the air and settling over our tracks.

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Start of a Season

6 inches of powder on ungroomed trails, miles of winding paths to follow, untracked snowfields lying in wait, thousands of vertical feet to be accumulated. Sparkling snow caught by the sun as it falls steadily from low-lying clouds. Sunny and snowing. Powdery and soft. Cold but windless. Just about the perfect start to the season.
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The din of an airplane is muffled by the encompassing darkness. You can’t tell where the ground ends and the sky starts. Pinpricks of light on the ground are as scattered as the stars in the sky, and it feels like you’re sweeping through pure, empty space. A few minutes later, as the moon rises higher, a wrinkled mountain range is visible, illuminated by soft white moonlight. Pure wilderness surrounds isolated homes, on slopes and white-crested peaks. It’s silently, desperately beautiful.  

Few headlights fly past on the lone highway. Sloping mountains are barely lit in the blackness of night by the moonlight. Everything is hidden from sight, blanketed under the dark sky. It’s up to the imagination what it looks like.

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Autumn is for Quiet Days

Autumn is for quiet days

With headphones in, acoustic afternoons

With a note for each leaf that flutters from the trees,

For sweaters that comfort from the chilled winds,

For slow sips of warm tea

With hints of orange and nutmeg.

Autumn is for long poems

With mesmerizing images and shimmering words,

For dusty sunbeams

That flicker between golden trees,

For the contrast of gray mornings

And bright leaves.

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“Let’s Hike… That One!”

We stood in the meadow, surveying our surroundings. Short shrubs brushed our ankles, taller aspens stood proudly around the edge of the meadow. Our tent rustled behind us in the slight breeze, and the bright sun cast a warm glow over everything around. And, of course, we were focused on the looming peaks that surrounded  the area. We were looking for an adventure, a summit, a goal.

Slowly turning, we examined each visible peak. “Too short”, “not steep enough”, and “it doesn’t even go above treeline!” were some of our critical comments.  There was one, however, that stood above the rest- its steep, conical peak loomed in the distance and it was bare of any trees for hundreds of feet. There was a small structure at the top, too far to discern what it was. It was perfect. And so, our goal was set by a simple exclamation of:

“Let’s hike… That one!”
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In Boston

On our trip to Massachusetts, of course it was necessary to spend a day or two in Boston. I don’t know why, but it’s one of my favorite places to just wander through- taking in all the sights and sounds of the city. I don’t often find myself in a city so it’s really a wonderful experience to even just be there!
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