From the Top of a Frozen Mountain I Find Freedom

The cool, crisp air demands my undivided attention.

In line, my impatience grows.

Filled with anticipation of the upcoming exhilaration.

In this moment, my excitement creates giggles.

My breath so warm. The air so cold. The mist forms before me.

The sole place in the world where my racing thoughts take pause.

Nowhere else is such freedom felt.

My turn arrives. I begin to lift overhead.

My nose grows more red.

Chatter gathers. Graceful carving continues below.

Higher and higher we ascend.

I turn around. The playful town becomes doll-like in size.

A storybook seems left behind.

Higher we continue to climb.

My excitement building in my chest.

Flying down, I cannot wait to be.

Nothing is as serene.

To the top, we almost arrive.

Seconds soon, the mountain peak, I will be upon.

The air manages to get colder.

My ears, numb form the frost, continue to get used to the steep ascension.

None of this deters the pure joy of the upcoming ride.

Here it is. Our exit to the mountaintop.

My breath I manage to catch.

Sit down. Feet strap down. Ready to go.

Stand up. Slowly inhale. Look down. Ready, set, go…

Downward I fly. I carve into the mountainside.

Wind whipping.

Fingers numb.

This is it!

My excitement peaks!!!

The only sound is my board cutting into the snow.

With a swish and whish, flying down I continue.

Dodging trees and hugging curves, my ride is sweeter than that of a Lamborghini.

The line below.

My finish too soon.

My craze descent has come to an end.

Over to the line, I move to start this all over again!

© 2012 Elizabeth Rockhill