Shelter, warmth, cradled by blanket and couch, aware of Shasta so present, awake. Moonlight bright reaching spotlight full snow abounding space, mounds of white planets stacked under my feet. Black horizon burning stars surging blue. Glittered ice crisp crystals, silver glass, powdered dust layered in sheets of sheer ivory fabric, glazed with fiber optics on top of a plush magical carpet crushing starched snowflakes down into a footprint.
Photos by Kate
Sink, sinking to my knee, legs not tired, I am tired, subdued by a calm still curious world. Gravity spontaneously fierce on the drag after being a surface walker, lift the knee, just lift the knee over the colorless sphere rotating down I walk the rounded white line reaching the sky in a children’s book, the moon the brightest I’ve ever seen.
Just past ten thousand elevation, shuffling quickly to the side, out I hurl water, dry heave, spit, and get back on the path. Snow calf deep, knee deep, the summit fading like one of those stars burning blue and white almost invisible- I turn around. Daylight’s wrist watch has crept behind my back, yet I welcome the change.
Deepest darkest blues against snow mount hills and green pastured treetops, makes all the world seem like a dream- a different place, mysteriously knowing many secrets just under my feet and above my head, none so evident to me as now. Silence, listening to new sound, noise of moving elements and their vibrations, letting myself go even quieter, I inhale and enjoy the view.
Sculpted, powdered mountains, in twilight the beginnings of purples, yellow sends strands of golden pinks into hue, turquoise enters the strong line between night and day, and the grays begin to shadow- this feels so good. Warmth crosses my body, over my ice boxed feet, curing me. Bare inside as it’s bare outside, empty stomach growling, delighting dependently on earth’s resources.
In the distance I view picturesque lands of the Trinity Alps, eyes tracing rugged ridge lines, peak to peak sleeping to snow’s peaceful lullaby, and already think of being lost again in its many valleys and magnificence. I take a moment to accept my decent down rare, exquisite, Shasta, and on your strong terrain challenges never lack. I go on, go on down the mountain, down to the places we all go, and back to the comforts of all the stupid things I love.
In the house, breathing deep remembering cold crested air in my lungs, still refreshing the wondrous stretches of elevation elegantly drafted out in its transparent glory and getting all my attention today. The day that just hours ago, was there, and being up there- alone and in an alien world I hold you in my eye, snow mountain next time soon, with the merry month of spring at my side.