Skiing with Robert Louis Stevenson

Winter Time
by Robert Louis Stevenson

Late lies the wintry sun a-bed,
A frosty, fiery sleepy-head;
Blinks but an hour or two; and then,
A blood-red orange, sets again.

Before the stars have left the skies,
At morning in the dark I rise;
And shivering in my nakedness,
By the cold candle, bathe and dress.

Close by the jolly fire I sit
To warm my frozen bones a bit;
Or with a reindeer-sled, explore
The colder countries round the door.

When to go out, my nurse doth wrap
Me in my comforter and cap;
The cold wind burns my face, and blows
Its frosty pepper up my nose.

Black are my steps on silver sod;
Thick blows my frosty breath abroad;
And tree and house, and hill and lake,
Are frosted like a wedding cake.

This afternoon, my wife and I went cross-country skiing in the hills around Butte and it felt like we were gliding through poetry.  The sun was at a perfect slant and the aspens were leaning against each other as if whispering.  The snow fell in varying degrees--sometimes like glitter, sometimes like large shavings from a bar of soap.  Several times, I stopped along the trail at Moulton Reservoir and snapped a photo to capture what I saw.  The photo above is about halfway through our trek through the trees.

All in all, a wonderful afternoon spent with my best friend.  Finding this poem from Robert Louis Stevenson was just icing on the cake.