My feet can feel the silky powder through my boots and skis. My toes can feel it. I’ve got happy feet. The powder is so soft and smooth. I surf through it, I dance through it.

I snake a hard turn to the left and bank back to the right where the trail’s pitch tips downward. The dance transitions into a trampoline descent down deep, bottomless pillows. Clouds of white confetti burst up and over my head. Was it a face shot? Is this a white room? Where am I?

I want to stop and remove the mental fog of disbelief and bewilderment. I want to be mindfully aware, to fully absorb the sensations. But I can’t stop. I won’t stop. An irresistible force keeps pulling me down into the white deep. I think I felt snow at my knee caps but I can’t be sure, nothing seems real any more.

How is this even possible? Jay only reported 6-8″. Blasting through another knee deep pillowy drift, I wonder where the bottom is? But I realize that is just another useless thought, clutter in my brain that doesn’t matter. I banish that thought and all the others, losing myself, descending into an abyss of white. I’m ten again, on a playground and swinging, swinging, releasing at the apex and then I’m flying. What a feeling.