Hamilton Arts & Letters
![]() From the moment we hop out of my van, it’s clear. I’ve prepared for this ski atop the frozen surface of Heffley Lake with my usual pack-mule mentality. My friend, Elizabeth, in comparison, is whippet-like, lean and trim, with just one layer of outer gear and her skis. I’m so impressed that I’m tempted to ask if she has anything in her pockets, but that’s too nosy—even for me. What I do know is that I’ll be embarrassed to carry my normal burden beside someone who seems to need so little. Behind us, nuthatches “eeek, eeek, eeek” and a raven “carooks” in the far distance; below us, the lake’s frozen expanse is cupped in the linear hollow of this high valley. [ >>>>> FORWARD ]
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