I came
For big mountains
And the deep deep snow
For big mountains
And the deep deep snow
I stayed
For the kindness
And the deep deep grow
Tag: Whistler
This world between skies
In this world between skies
I thrive
Where turns go on forever
Edge to edge
Soft, flowing, floating
Sailing through
The clouds of white
Billowing all around me
I thrive
Where turns go on forever
Edge to edge
Soft, flowing, floating
Sailing through
The clouds of white
Billowing all around me
Lager
My housemate was in New Orleans while I manned the fort during a dreary Vancouver March. It’s a singularly moist, grey and cold month, March in Vancouver. Sometimes a several-days-long hint of summer makes a foray into March which, rather than the reprieve it might otherwise be, only makes the return of cold wet seem all the more, well, cold and wet.
Peak 2 Peak
Fitzsimmons Creek
Cavorts and frolics
Over one thousand feet below
Cavorts and frolics
Over one thousand feet below
Betwixt and between
Whistler and Blackcomb
And miles of untracked snow
As if a blizzard
The cabins disappear
Into thickened air
As if a blizzard
Fell upon us
Into thickened air
As if a blizzard
Fell upon us
It is August
No snow is falling
But the haze
Of forests burning
Life should be a calculated risk
On a perfect powder day
And the sun breaking through
On the untracked line
You’ve been eyeing for months
And the sun breaking through
On the untracked line
You’ve been eyeing for months
The last thing on your mind
Is an avalanche
But it shouldn’t be
They come for the snow
They come for the snow
For the high mountain vistas
To be above the clouds
Above it all
For the high mountain vistas
To be above the clouds
Above it all
They come to rise up
Then to speed down
To glide on silken slopes
The graceful arc of edges
Dubh Linn Gate Après
The Guinness is expensive
But the house lager is not
The bar maids all pretty
In pleated skirts and knee socks
But the house lager is not
The bar maids all pretty
In pleated skirts and knee socks
I come for my friends
For the best band in the town
For the wood and the charm
The best Après around
In the silence between peaks
The snow-covered trees fall away on the rapidly declining slope. From above, they look like an architectural drawing, the contrast of white snow against the dark boughs of hemlock, fir and cedar. It occurs to me only now that each tree, from directly overhead, resembles an irregular snowflake. It’s a beauty I always marvel at, every time across. The trips with snow on the trees are always best.
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