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What it is was a walk in the woods with one of my better friends in a
snowstorm. A white shadow drove us to a path in some backyard country
neighborhood wilderness where winter seems stubborn enough to stay
this time. There was some skiing but mostly mellow gliding  through
the creaking trees - weary from wind and snow plastered up and down
their sides  if arthritis could speak, those trees were talking back
and we were just passing through like a momentary hope.

A taste of what's to come hinted here and there at us  just on the
edge of that fleeting exhilaration that comes with letting them run in
the powder  but just a taste. Eight inches of powder on dirt and
rocks and stumps and logs provide few places to trust, but there are a
few.

It is what it is.

http://www.uvm.edu/skivt-l/image_upload/World/oct20skiing_005.mov

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