The weather outside is frightful, but inside it’s so delightful.
One of the joys of being outdoors in the cold is the idea of coming inside to the warmth.
It’s below freezing and you don’t have warm shoes on, the views are spectacular and the snow on the valley below is like the gods sprinkled powdered sugar from a behemoth sifter, but the air is crisp and clean and you feel it soothe your lungs. It’s a wonder to be outdoors, but it’s going to be nice to be inside.
Across the valley is an oasis, a lodge that looks built by people who knew about real estate: location, location, location. It’s sleek and low, brown like gingerbread resting in a platter of sugar-coated trees. I can’t tell how far of a walk it is: maybe 10 minutes, but maybe 30. I can barely feel my toes, but I know I’ll only be on the rim of the Grand Canyon in the snow for a few more minutes on this day and who knows when again. A few more minutes of cold I can stand.
A few more minutes of anything is tolerable–even downright enjoyable–when you think about when you’ll be there again. Where the vistas are broad and majestic, the snowflakes flutter like butterflies in the air, and the sparkle from the white in the trees is magical and heavenly. Just a few more minutes of cold to let it sink in, to let the cold really soak into your skin, maybe down to your bones so you’ll remember it just that much longer.
There it is, that’s good. Now the air is through me and a part of me. The snow is frosted flakes and delicious. The valley below is one I’ll visit on foot someday, just not today. The water down there we’ll raft for two weeks. This is a place you’ll come again and every time it’s different. Same for millions of years, yet somehow different because we are different from one day to the next.
Today is a perfect day of air, water, and fire. Speaking of fire, let’s head inside and warm up.