User blog:Slugkitty/Feeling a little inspired

The world is white today.

A thick, white blanket covers the ground and the sky, and both are so white I can hardly tell where the ground ends and the sky starts. The trees hunch over, saddened at the thought that they cannot ever leave behind their roots. The sky sends down gifts in the form of tiny snowflakes that mesh together, knitting the fabric of another layer of blanket.

A few fresh feet of snow has fallen overnight, and it is perfect to ski in.

My blades cut through the powder as I zoom down the hill, my goggles turning the world into a bright orange. I swerve past those who tried to move as fast as me but lost their balance and are now in a heap in the center of a run. My poles dig into the snow as I urge myself to move faster, faster, faster. My hair flies behind me, adorned with snowflakes that hang on for dear life. My hips and feet shift as I turn left, then right, zig-zagging down the slope and speeding past the flags that try to slow me down. I feel unstoppable.

I feel at home.

Moments later, inside a warm cabin that contrasts sharply with the bitter, monochrome white outside, holding a steaming cup of chocolate that warms my pink nose and cheeks, I smile as I feel a pang of longing, of desperation. I want to go out again. I need to go out again.

Two more runs, I promise my parents. Just two more.

And after that, three more.

Finally, I enter the car, frostbitten cheeks and all. I roll down the window, whispering goodbye to the home away from home as we leave the monochrome hills behind and enter a new land of soft, green carpets and trees that stretch upwards, accepting that they cannot leave and loving every second of life.

The world is green today.