CONFETTI

MARCH 11, 2023 – Today I have much to write about—thoughts, delights, reactions, encounters, contemplations. But as the weekly snowfall quietly accumulates outside our windows, possible topics are subsumed by the pleasant memory of afternoon’s trip to “Little Switzerland”—ski day no. 96 of the season. According to my basement-wall-tally system, out of 29 years of record keeping, in only eight winters have I skied more times—with this season holding the promise of multiple ski-days ahead: 20 perhaps or even more?

Excuse such banality, but understand its backdrop: Last season I logged three days, each of which was a bust; all in December 2021, when I was feeling sick and thinking fresh air and snow would serve a cure. Little then did I know I was skiing uphill even while descending. Shortly thereafter I’d be trading skis for Revlimid, a drug I’d never heard of, because . . . I’d never imagined developing the disease for which it was a treatment. Nor could I have known all the infusions or procedures that were comprised by the “standard of care” for my condition.

Yesterday the ski track at “Little Switzerland” had been freshly groomed. I sought out the groomer, who was maneuvering atop “St. Moritz,” my make-believe version of the hill served front and back by simple rope-tows. I wanted to express my appreciation for the fine job that the operator has done over the season. When I’d waved to him on prior occasions while he was making his rounds, he’d waved back, and yesterday, as he alighted from the machine as I approached, I saw immediately that he had a cheerful disposition. Dave, was his name, and taking proper pride in his work, he responded happily to my compliments.

Today’s storm, however, obliterated Dave’s work, though it had served to compact the base under new-fallen snow. Wind and thick clouds made me imagine I was piloting a ski plane by IFR (“instrument flight rules”)—my knees and balance sensory did the work that sight (VFR – “visual flight rules”) usually performs.

I delighted in the effect. As snow danced in the wind across my face, I felt absorbed by nature, by environmental forces over which I had no control. Instead of resisting them, I embraced them and floated over the accumulating snow. I thought of the beginner skier I’d encountered the other day, a guy who fell a short way down a hill. I’d seen him tense up and resist gravity, stiffening his knees and throwing his weight back. In observing track etiquette, I stopped to ask if he was okay (he was), and when I saw his awkward positioning for standing up, I offered a couple of tips. When he asked for pointers about skiing downhill, I told him, “Don’t fight the hill—embrace it. Relax, bend those knees and keep your weight forward.”

As I skated along my way today, a child of wind and weather, I relaxed, bent my knees, kept my weight forward. I let go of all worldly concerns and marveled at the pure delight of being alive and outside . . . with snow as my confetti.

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Ó 2023 by Eric Nilsson