After three days of excitement, injuries, and that worn-out-to-the-bone feeling that comes from playing as hard as one possibly can, some curious things have taken shape. Caution has come into play, with the littlest ones looking on, wondering sometimes if it's really worth it.
The scrapes,
the long, tiring trek back up the slope and the unknown of the next ride.
But on they go,
overcoming fear, embracing the freedom,
finding the silliness,
however they can,
tempting even the oldest ones in the group who recover the slowest and feel it the most (that's me at the bottom of that big hill up there).
It's well worth the slide, even without a sled,
and the walk back up, because this doesn't happen every winter here. It may not snow like this again until they're adults if history tells us anything.
So we gather it all in, this precious time. With the memories, the bruises, the aches and scrapes, reminders all that we are here, and that life is good, and full and wide open.
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