Skiing nearly every day had me feeling so very alive! Tingling with the cold on my face, the blood pumping as we glided silently through the fields and trees. Something about the air up there just cures what ails you!
On one trip we headed up a trail and then came down the other side of the mountain, in untouched, powdery snow, dodging sage bushes peeking up through the drifts. As our skis rolled over the bushes, the leaves released the most delicious, fresh, herb-y scent; it was heaven.
Several times when I got back to the cabin, I noticed Jack Frost had done a little number on my hair...
His artistry was everywhere; the glittering snow, the feathered crystals covering each stalk of grass peeking above the snow, and the fanciful curlicues decorating the steamy kitchen windows each morning.
Back in the city, the memory of those wide open spaces and fresh, clear air is still bright in my mind. Whatever medicine is in that air is certainly still doing me good!