Highland

Landforms as large as skyscrapers

A cold white mist rains from high up

The hustle and bustle hours from this spot

Pristine conditions on the slopes

What could be better than this?

The breeze is as harsh as a military general

Summer is a world away

The cold gives me blisters

People might call this weather horrendous

But What could be better than this?

The crish and swish of the skis against the ice-cold powder

A sport so fast shouldn’t be this calming, right?

But yet it is

Each run I ski down puts my breath at ease

I have done this so much it’s more than second nature

These wooden planks strapped to my heavy boots are like an extension of my legs

What could be better than this?