I send a small cliff and come to a halt. I traverse over to a more open area of the run. Excitedly, I spot a tree, make some turns, and spray it with a rooster tail, knowing that my mom would not be happy with me if she were here. Swerving around it, a patch of perfect powder awaits my clean arc, churning up the now disturbed fluff. I make some luxurious turns, straight line up to a cat track for a 360, and weave through some beginner skiers on my way to the main lodge.
I am in Nicholas' guitar teacher's front yard, shoe-skiing down a 2-foot high dirt mound, wishing that I was in real snow.
Jacob
Cool!! I love how it turns out to be an imagination! apparently you like the fantasy idea! :)
ReplyDeleteSo awesome.
LZ
Jacob, this IS luxurious. I don't know how you made skiing sound like eating the most moist cake and frosting (something your mom would make) but you did. It was, well, delicious, reading this post. I love your brief forays into writing, small "tastes" that feel so exquisite on my brain! Okay, details. I admit that when you spot the tree, I thought of pine cones. How funny is that? You've changed my perspective on trees forever! I love all the skiing terms, which, here, are strung together so elegantly. Traverse, rooster tail, swerving, patch, perfect, powder, clean arc, luxurious turns, straight line, cat track, 360, disturbed fluff. I LOVE the "beginner skiers" part! I like that you remove us from the fantasy only when you're finished with the run--or at least when you see your destination. I like not being pulled out all the time! And snow compared to dirt. Yep, you did it. You made ME wish for snow and that's not easy. GREAT! Carolyn
ReplyDeleteLuxurious, disturbed fluff, a patch of powder awaits my clean arc....... perfect I can't explain how awesome those words are in your story! Great post (again) ;)
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