Morning start on the slopes.
|Stillness has no feeling, yet a calm happiness awakens the day. Dark holds a waning grasp on the valley below, where a slight breeze brings frozen remnants from fresh snow. Fine as powder, light on the zephyr, it brings with it a crisp sting. The air holding a musty coniferous odor, as the valley pines rise and give way on the hillside to shorter dwarfed shrubs. Almost giving an imagination of whimsical creatures and fairytales, the smaller pines grow clinging to rocky rises of the mountains. Sun’s break on the top of the white peaks, casts the cliffs in shadow. The slow morning brings warmth that promises the luster of possibilities.
Her eyes affixed on the view. Holding the steaming cup of coco tightly in her little hands. A coat a little to big competing to cover those same hands. A black knit scarf, a contrast to her light purple jacket, snugly wrapped around her neck and its matching counterpart loosely a top her head. Both made with care and would never be left behind. Her flesh light and youthful, pigmented flush pink with the powdery breeze hitting her cheeks. The dark blue berry eye light with the crest of the sun, as a smile on her light pink lips reaches them.
“So, can we hit the slopes now, Mom? The sun’s finally up.”