Fresh snow

Skiing on a trail through the woods with only the sound of the wind in the trees and the singing of birds offers time for the quiet contemplation missing so often in the noisy busyness of life. Out here there is no rush, no deadline, no expectation beyond reaching the hill in the distance. Out here there is only the trail and the simple act of sliding one’s skis forward. In the quiet stillness of a winter wood, the mind is stilled and somehow what is truly important becomes clear.

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