A day in the life

I walked outside this evening and looked up at the stars, the mountains and the trees. Thestars were twinkling, the breeze was flowing down the valley through the house. What abeautiful day, what a beautiful night. My life is good. I spent the day checking on smallrenovations to the store, and reviewing catalog descriptions which will be a week longtask. Then an hour or so dealing with bizarre summer orders of winter equipment. I zipseven blocks uphill for lunch and spend the early afternoon updating the look of theequipment catalog. I have spent every afternoon this week flying through the skies.Stepping out of the basement of our home bright blue sky fills my world. Huge cumulusdevelopment is growing over the mountain peaks. It looks so incredible. I have not seenclouds look so white since spending a few days in Boulder, Colorado a couple ofsummers ago - but this - the cloud is growing two kilometers from my house and the bluesky and green mountains! I sweep into the house - grab the phone - call up one of myflying friends and say that I am on my way. An hour later we are standing on top of ourlocal soaring hill two thousand feet above the valley floor listening to thermals stirringthe trees and staring at the massive cloud formations to the north - yet nothing but bluesky and small puffy clouds to the south. Fifteen minutes later in the air flying like thebirds, passing back and forth along the ridgeline trying to hook into one of the small tightthermals that are breaking through the wind. Another one of those elusive momentswhere frustration and happiness come together. Start sinking out, catch one light thermalthat picks me up and carries me 500 feet back up into the sky - but that’s it for me and Imake my way out to the landing field - actually a strip of dirt on the other side of the roadfrom the local bar. Pretty much it goes: mountains, highway, town, bar, road, landingstrip, abandoned railway line, river, mountains. Does not change much - does not need to.Land, pack up, drop my stuff into the borrowed and blown out red sort of sportscar. Enjoysitting out at the bar, watching the hangliders making slow circles in light lift. They are onthere way out too. Chatting to an interesting harley rider - sixty three years old - he sayshe feels like 16 cruising around checking out the world. Great place. We makearrangements so that he can come flying with me another day. OK. That should beinteresting. Time to go - we gotta retrive the vehicle we left at the top of the mountain -so we see the sunset - and the mosquitoes are biting now. No mosquitoes at my house socruise home and of course there is our cat coming out to the gate to greet me home. Thiscat has to get a life - three of four years old and still has the affectionate kittten in him. Ofcourse I give the cat a good old scratch to encourage this behavior. Not really hungry butthere is easy food in the fridge. I just feel like sitting down, listening to some music,turning of all these thoughts get back to reality and think about skiing powder all winterlong. I’ll just get these thoughts written down, crawl up to bed and read for about fiveminutes and try to do it all again tomorrow.
Hope to see you soon.
Trevor