Day 8: Active with Glide

IMG_2027

The snow was a heavy swirl around the flood light on the corner of the barn when I woke, white flashes in the black.  By the time there was enough light outside to see, the snow had slowed to small flecks.  By mid-morning there was a fine, freezing mist blurring the horizon, a cloud across the fields.  After lunch, David and I drove down the road looking for snowmobile tracks so we could cross-country ski.  I’d tried earlier and there was too much snow to track alone, over a foot, and getting heavier as the mist soaked into what had been fine, dry powder.  I kept losing my ski tips in the snow and couldn’t lift them to take the next step.  

Yes, tracks!  A snowmobile had come across Coe Farm, an old woods road, and continued up Canterbury where we wanted to ski.  As we got ready the sun finally came around some clouds, making a cathedral of light in the dense woods.  We snapped our boots into our bindings and kicked off.

“Active with glide.”  That was how Eric described what he loved best, outdoor sports that translated his effort into a gliding motion – cross-country skiing, kayaking, biking.  I love it all too, and nothing better than skiing.  David had skied enough before I’d satisfied my craving, and after he drove home I followed the snowmobile track over Coe Farm Road, the day turned gray again.  Clouds, snow, dark pines and hemlocks, bare oaks and maples, and occasional beech saplings, still fluttering pale brown leaves.  Mostly a black and white world, even the needles of the pines muted under their drapes of snow.  Color isn’t what I come out into this world for.

I come out to play.  To kick and push and then glide.  After I’d skied up and over the hill of Coe Farm Road and come back, I climbed Canterbury Road again.  So I could ski down, so I could slip around the curves of the hills and feel the ground falling away underneath me, fast enough to have to pay attention to just this, the long slide, the metal sky above, the stone walls hidden in white mounds, the slick of the day moving into dusk, darkness coming, another round.

Advertisements

About Grace Mattern

Grace Mattern is a poet, writer, mother, grandmother, partner, friend, family member, gardener, triathlete, hiker and for 30 years was the Executive Director of the NH Coalition Against Domestic and Sexual Violence. She resigned her position at the Coalition on June 15, 2011 in order to concentrate on her writing, while continuing to engage in the movement to end violence against women as a consultant and advisor. Her chapbook Fever of Unknown Origin was published in 2001 and her full-length poetry book The Truth About Death was published in 2012.
This entry was posted in Light, Outdoors. Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Day 8: Active with Glide

  1. sadiekp3 says:

    Thanks for this post Grace. I am living vicariously through you until it gets warm enough for snow here in Washington.

  2. Sharon says:

    Nice – so evocative. “Soul of the weather” writing, which, of course, is a theme shot through everything you do. Beautiful.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s