Mountain Wind

In this mountain village, it’s a freezing -4°F. Facing the biting wind, I exhale towards the sky, white breaths clearing my chest. I light a fire in the stove of our lean-to camp, grateful for being alive, and imagine the luxury of rolling in the snow while lying on the warm floorboards. Suddenly, the sun sets after the relentless search of the winter. Winter doesn’t just vanish into a lonely deposition now.

Mountain wind. Whoosh! It pierces from the nose to the chest, leaving me breathless. At -4°F, the cold brings moments of silence. In the eternal tranquility when even breath pauses, rolling in the snow brings warmth back to the body. The duality of being cold yet warm, the chest warm but the nose freezing from the wind, is a unique gift that winter bestows upon us.

cold, breathe, duality