A scrapbook of memories, Images. perfect (or perfectly remembererd turns.

The natural legacy of how many springtimes in a row? on skis of course, under that priviledged azure sky, sketching out rough drafts of paradise with steel edges on corn snow.

Spring days have no rough edges. They are never earned, but merely gifts. Harsh winter weather asking for a truce. Hard earned technique taking a break. Skis that turn themselves. Smiles that come out of nowhere, and stay. A bonus season, yes, a gift, best enjoyed — of course —on skis.