It has not been a good week for writing.
The end of the ski season is looming nearer, and I spent the past week cramming in hours on the slopes with predictions of, ‘This is probably the last good day of skiing/boarding left!’ repeated from one day to the next. Of course I was going to skip that day’s sketch, postpone the next blog post, push the newsletter to Sunday instead of Saturday. All of that had to come to an end today, the guilt of my broken routine outweighed the desperation of getting outside.
And it has been snowing big fluffy flakes all day, covering the ski hill next to me in beautiful powder.
So, in celebration of a return to winter after the passing of spring equinox, and of my temporary inability to string 2 interesting sentences together, here is a collection of winter inspired daily sketches:
Peeking at cabins through winter bare trees.
The shrubbery outside the window with nothing but red berries left.
A dried up leaf which blew by across the snow.
I like how the snow collects on top of Christmas ornaments hung on trees outside.
I always feel for those little birds who hang around for Canadian winters.
The white landscape makes the few colours left really pop.
How I spent most of the first 2 weeks learning how to board.
The chairlift, my arch nemesis. Took me almost a month to figure out how to get off these evil contraptions without face planting.
A united snowflake.
The flock of chickadees who visit the trees outside my kitchen window.
The impressive cross country skier.
The predawn sky lightening over the layered hills of the ski slopes.
I like how the snow collects on top of evergreen tree boughs.
I was having tea, but craving hot chocolate.
How I feel after getting dressed to go outside.
My favourite cafe is called Mouton Noir, it is next to a little bridge over a partially frozen river.
The colour palette of winter.
The blowing snow outside the window makes it feel that much more cozy inside.
Winter = boxes of little mandarins and clementines.
Golden light rimming birch trees and blue shadows slanting across the snow.
I remember sucking on icicles when I was a kid. The idea of the dirt that might be trapped inside keeps me from doing it now.
An incredible sunset through the trees along one of my favourite ski runs.
The hills as they fade into the distance.
Dameuse/groomer passing by in the middle of the night.
Those red berries keep the chickadees coming back.
It is not just chickadees hanging around, there are the crows, too.
A piece of birch bark I found in the fall, blown off the patio, later found again after a warm spell caused the snow to melt.
Another sunset through the silhouette of bare trees.
Without winter there would be no maple syrup. Who wants to live in a world without maple syrup?
Looking down from the chair lift – no longer my arch nemesis at this point.
I am so glad I did not give up. Boarding feels like dancing downhill … now that I am not falling every 200 metres.
Boarding off into the sunset.
So, maybe it is time to push to the next level?