It's not often that the world is forced to be just as it is.
Snow can't simply be ignored.
It levels us and flips the consequences of gravity.
It makes fast things go slow and slow things fast.
Running knee deep through a field of frozen water carries a strange freedom-
like a million gates left open.
I exist so well in the extremes.
Under the vastness of the desert my head is mercifully silent.
In the snow my body is set free.
It is as if there is no memory of anything that came before.
Even BC forgets.
We left Beach to slide in peace and we took a hike over the backside of the mountain. Forgetting who I am, and where I came from, he tried playfully shoving me backwards into the snow. Only he hadn't remembered to temper the power in his touch. He hit me hard, hard enough I was too stunned to try and catch myself and I rolled twice before stopping.
Neither of us knew quite what to do. Until I started laughing- and rubbing the spot high on my chest where he had hit me. He apologized a half dozen times before I convinced him I was really okay. Okay-er than I had been in long time.
Tougher than I had planned on being ever again.
Happier than I wanted to admit.
But the snow tends to do that to me.
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