So last week was our Spring Break, and we were invited to visit some friends at the top of a mountain in Colorado, which we did. And there, this Gulf Coast girl saw snow. Like, all the snow. Every last flake of it. More snow than I’ve ever seen in my life, collectively, including in photographs and movies. More snow than in movies about Middle Earth, maybe more snow than on the tundra. And more of it kept falling on us the whole time we were there.
It was beautiful and glorious and maybe one of the most awesome things ever.
I tried skiing, and I will probably never attempt this again. In fact, should I ever find myself stranded atop a snowy mountain I will either have to scoot down the slope on my bottom or have to be rescued by helicopter. How I will get up there in the first place remains a mystery, too, since I’m sure not getting on a ski lift willingly. In the grandest maneuver I managed during my morning of ski school, I slid down a modest hill on my back, screaming for help. I’m sure it was hilarious. I was not hurt and honestly, not even embarrassed, just happy to get out of those skis and sit in a snowdrift watching my family enjoy themselves. (For comparison, Tiny Beowulf was running blues by his third day on the slopes.)
I rather liked sledding, though, and building a snowman, and simply sifting through the extraordinary stuff. It was like powdered sugar that’s had a little humidity and then been cooled down. Quite fun to stop around in and crunch underfoot.
Now, I’m pretty sure the snow in this song is not the same as the snow I experienced, because hey oh, Red Hot Chili Peppers. But whatever. Did you know they put on the best concert ever? Going to rock concerts is sort of a hobby of mine, and RHCP is one of the best I’ve ever seen, if not the number one ever.