Raison d'être
The stillness in the early morning and biting cold as you labour over the straps on your boots, haul skis and poles over one shoulder, trudge calf-deep in snow to the chair lift that will send you over the top.
As you ascend, the clouds that shield the light part and the peak comes into view against the dazzling morning sun. You take a breath, deeper than usual because you are thousands of feet above sea level, and the crisp coldness flushes your lungs.
The chair lift jolts, and you are flicked onto the snow, muscles taut as gravity takes your skis downhill. The world slips by. Time slips by. Nothing else matters.
As you ascend, the clouds that shield the light part and the peak comes into view against the dazzling morning sun. You take a breath, deeper than usual because you are thousands of feet above sea level, and the crisp coldness flushes your lungs.
The chair lift jolts, and you are flicked onto the snow, muscles taut as gravity takes your skis downhill. The world slips by. Time slips by. Nothing else matters.
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