Open,18º and dropping, the sky is blue and the wind is blowing. 1 inch of snow overnight, blowing around.

Open 9-5.

Forecast high 30º and sun.

The photo is this morning. The skiing isn’t perfect. It is slow. There are a few ruts under the new snow from yesterday. But it’s fine and outside and skiing. No grooming today.

Outside, fresh air, one more trip around the Woodcock and Snow Goose, or Chickadee, or whatever you want, one more ski day in for the season. Don’t be in a hurry and enjoy the sunshine.

Looks like the skiing on Friday will be similar to today, but today’s soft spots will be tomorrows hard spots. Friday the softer skiing in the late morning,11ish.

I said we would hear more from Michael Fleming today. And with the new wind blown snow over the corn snow, it is a great day to hear about snow. Link to this poem and then the rest of his work. Thanks for sharing Mike!

Snow

What you cannot name, you cannot perceive —

so goes the claim. And then they trot out Snow:

Exhibit A. Eskimos, some believe,

have fourteen, or forty-three, words for snow

(estimates vary), so their wintry world

is rich with nuance; they can discuss snow

with discernment, like boys discussing girls,

whereas, enfeebled by our one word, snow,

our meager English tally, we’re rendered blind

to snow that falls in dreams of snow, to snow

that dogs have rolled in, all the many kinds

of drifted snow, graupel, grits, popcorn snow,

Sierra cement, styro-snow, champagne

powder, pack ice, poo ice, rock ice, corn snow,

cauliflower, crud, crust, mush, frozen rain,

slippery slop . . .

                           We’re oblivious to snow.

© Michael Fleming
Brattleboro, Vermont
March 2016