Archived Outdoors

Gallery: A winter wonderland

out hollyWhen I transplanted myself from Wyoming to North Carolina, I assumed that part of the deal would be relinquishing access to the singular thrill of breaking powder on cross-country skis, exploring through deserted, snow-caked forests and whitewashed vistas. I’m so happy to be so wrong.

Skiing through the freshly fallen snow on the Blue Ridge Parkway this weekend, alone in the world but for the soft sounds of branches creaking and wind rustling — and, of course, the dog trotting along behind me — I rediscovered that purest form of exhilaration. 

 

Snow makes me suddenly melt into an 8-year-old child, and I’m OK with that. There’s magic in the way it blankets mundane surroundings in a soft, white canvas, inviting wonder amid the familiar. And when the blanketed surroundings in question are awe-inspiring rather than mundane, well, prepare to be astonished. 

I’ll be riding that feeling until the snow falls again. And in the meantime, living vicariously through the pictures I brought back with me. 

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