something about childish games brings joy back to old bones.
something about brisk air that reinvigorates mundane adults.
today i caught site of children trapped inside adult bodies, seeing them relive their long-distant childhood with a thin piece of plastic and a long, steep, magic covered decent.
weathered men in carharts and camouflage cracking smiles for seemingly the first time across leathery faces. and then the smiles stuck, setting free wrinkles and laughs, cries of joy.
and the young ones, too; they seemed in their prime. they slid naturally and skillfully, happily and free.
all together, now. down and down. first narrowly missing a returning explorer, just below the crest of the lip, hidden from site. then, a head turns too late to warning cries and it’s a white-washed wipeout. wild yet wonderful.
ramps send more than bodies flying, but spirits and adrenaline and mittens and delight all soar together.
bodies tire and it’s time to move on. but memories will stay longer than the snow.