up at 3:55am cold waxing skis…6am starbucks and heading west…
sometimes the voices come in the night, mountains and blue eyes and scattered ashes…cold water and smooth stones, and I don’t know if I’m awake or in a dream.
racing west from the sun and the city lights with Jeff Buckley. You know the song, “lover you should’ve come over…too young to hold on, too old to just break free and run…”
had to stop typing to pass and see the horizon…blue, grey, white.
climbed the peak above Larch to 8900’…and every time I thought I was at the top I couldn’t see there was another rolling horizon…but life is like that. I am a creature of habit as much as I love the edge and I skied down some wind blown slope I’d never seen but once I find my line I will ski it over and over until it fits like some old blue jeans.
I saw a couple reach the peak on skins just after I climbed straight up and felt sad in the empty moment, in the wind and sun…I’ll never have that, I thought… and took a couple pictures…and then later I thought, we may not have everything with one person but I have the right things with the right person.
Meanwhile…clean shave, white shirt, black tie with white dots…boardroom at 10… and my lips are sore from the sun and the wind. It’s the gentle sting that
reminds me where I was, and that I was really there at all…like the words.