In the Morning
The soft whoosh of cars slowly chugging through the slush outside rustles me from my dreams long before the sun weakly attempts to pierce through the storm. Coming to in an ethereal, pre-dawn haze, I recall the forecast: 10 to 18 inches overnight with more on the way.
My border collie Marley jingles awake to the rhythmic pounding of my roommate Jason coming up the stairs. The house slowly comes alive, but for now I burrow deeper into the soft down blankets and descend back into the refuge of sleep. There’s still time to savor my warm bed and the backside of my eyelids before I brave the cold and head to work.
The coffee maker gurgles to life, and the incessant swish of nylon ski pants and the padded thumps of socked feet move around the house as skis, boots and poles are collected and packed.
As I roll off of my left shoulder, a soft, arthritic pop reminds me why I’m not part of the frenzied preparation going on outside my door. Eight weeks ago, the doctor tacked down my rotator cuff after a climbing accident left me with a massive shoulder dislocation and five staples in my head. It’d be at least another month before I’d click into my bindings and remember what it is to slide on snow.
The front door slams as Jason heads out to start the car, obviously too excited to remember that people are still asleep. God, it must be good out there. His truck stutters in the cold and then rumbles to life, and the guttural scratch of the ice scraper confirms my suspicions about the weather. He slowly motors off toward the snowy canyon above, the engine revving to gain purchase on the unplowed street.
An hour or two later, sluggish gray daylight streams in my window, and the painful trill of my alarm brings me to full consciousness. Eight inches of fresh blankets the front yard, and that’s just down here in the valley. I rub my eyes and stumble through the house, following the thick, inviting scent of french roast past my neglected skis and into the kitchen.
I slump down at the table, squint out the window at the decadent fluff piling up below the jagged skyline shrouded in storm clouds, and sigh.
Soon.
