I realize things are happening but I’m just not seeing the forest from the trees
Just the mention of trees this time of year perks mine ears
To be or not be
The quietus that waits can wait
That much I do know
It’s quite pleasurable to not see the entire forest and sift through the trees
There’s freedom in being lost or just concentrating on dodging them
Traverse the worst
Don’t traverse!
Like Bourbon making me feel sexy I can’t help but romanticize about the snow falling set on the mountain
A triggered response like a dog
I love coffee and hard wood floors just as much as the next guy but my desire to go out there and shred powder is higher than most
That pause where you stop and just look around
The solitude the snow the trees the accumulation
I remember gliding through mellow yellow with nothing but the sound of birds
When your skis make no sound you know you’re in the right place
I even stopped listening to music
But I definitely still smoke sativa
One run I just followed the sun
Don’t traverse
It wasn’t a traverse
The atmosphere and experience is unparalleled for me
But I’m just a degenerate resort rat
I gnaw on low hanging fruit all day; and like work I have a hard time taking one off
The real guys ain’t on no resort unless it’s there home mountain like Pink Floyd
And his home mountain ain’t even a resort, but it has a chairlift
