Back to the Mountain

Like a pilgrimage each year, we go to the mountain in winter. We go by there at other times of the year but there is something different, some magical quality in going when the snow has fallen and the mountain is covered with snow and icicles, our little paradise. It is tucked between other mountains.

That's where we headed on the first day of the New Year. We rose early, packed our lunch and set out.

 To get there we have to pass through a gap in the Appalachian Mountains, known as the Ap Gap.

 The view is spectacular, it brings me to a state of rapture and never fails to take my breath away. Huge icicles hang down from the rocky walls of the gap.

It is our mountain, our own little piece of paradise, shared with others, it is co-operatively owned and we are members of the co-op. My children learned to ski there and I learned to ski there too.

 The single chair lift is the only one in the country, a single seat to ride up the hill through snow covered trees in a magical forest. On balmy days like this one you can hear the brooks sing as they trickle their way down the mountainside.



The misty mountain.

One misty, moisty mountain when cloudy was the weather...

My little one has mastered the chair lift. In past years. he's had a few near dips in the little brook that runs beneath it. Now he is confident and asks for help if he thinks he might need it. He knows fear. This is new.

The sky was the clearest shade of blue on the way home.

That was our first day of Twenty Twelve.

Happy Twenty Twelve! 

May we all receive with grace whatever comes towards us this year.