she’s a piece of nature that gladys.  she lures you in with her sassy cat trail, seduces you with her serene view of the world and then slices you down with her hairpin hills.

her name is aunt gladys and she’ll send you and your comfort levels out of bounds.

a beginner skier i don’t find many runs to be easy.  but auntie seemed tempting, enticed by my crew i geared up and went forth.  she was steady at first and then her temper roared.  no parallel turns or snowploughs were to save me.  i was there, naked raw, to make my own way down.  internal panic.  fear arose.  tears formed.  my internal compass stood still but the voice ahead of me talked me down.

“look at the world in front of you.  don’t forget to take it in,” it said.

and so, on the wrath of gladys i exhaled, exhaustion abound, i looked.  and there she was — the world.  not a hill or a run or slope but the world of white bliss and a setting indigo sun.  for a moment fear subsided and joy overwhelmed my heart.  i lost all sense of emotion, refraining tears for my part.  i’ve never been so scared nor saved at the same time.  there was no one near.  no sound to fright.  just me and gladys, sitting silently in nature’s light.

the world taken in, i reached out to grab a hand to bask in the snow globe glow, to etch this memory in white, but alas there i stood alone, just me, to take in this beautiful, serene sight.