But — let’s not think about that. Let’s pretend it’s so cold, you can’t feel your nose or hands. Your feet falls onto the soft crunch of snow as you walk up the snow covered street. The sound of a crackling fireplace entices you to starting making s’mores. You breathe in cool air into your lungs. You are in the mountains, and it’s a snowy day.
I took two trips to the mountains in the last year. One with some friends in 2018 and one this year with Austy. The two trips actually could not have been more different, but yet they were both refuge from the main thing we were all trying to escape from — home.
The mountain retreat with friends was communal. We played games, drank a little, snowboarded, and ate a LOT of good food — mostly breakfast and hot pot at the end of a long day of snowboarding. It was warm and comforting — home without needing to be at home.
The mountain retreat with Austin was solitude. We played games, mostly in the snow, drank a little, ate bomb food around the area — and let ourselves reflect and create. We would sit in the comforts of our heated cabin, revelling in the quiet companionship while the rest of the world behind our double paned windows was blanketed in soft snow. It was warm and comforting — home for my thoughts without needing to be at home.
That is, until the heater stopped working at one point and we were left in the freezing cold in a cabin surrounded by 30 degree weather, and until we had to put on snow chains towards the end of our trip, which was a struggle with just the two of us.
I never grew up with the snow, so being able to experience it a few times during my adult life is a blessing in disguise. For one, I am grateful I never had to experience snow on a daily basis — although idyllic and soft at first glance, it is unforgiving when the heater doesn’t work or when you’re struggling to drive up a snowy hill.
The snow is a magical place to rest, a place to call home for a few days — but it is not a lifestyle for me. And because of that, it has made me appreciate home that much more — although chaotic, restless, and neverending — at the end of the day, home is warm and comforting.
