Yesterday my friend Eric and I hiked into the Silver King basin-- snow-shoed to be precise. It was a challenging, yet deeply pleasureable trek. Emerging from the muffled green world of the forest we arrived in the open alpine basin. Around us, jagged peaks materialized on all sides. We arrived near dusk at a rustic log cabin set in the heart of the valley.
That night the moon was full. We watched as it crested over one of the peaks. It moved with surprising rapidity to bathe the valley in its eerie silver glow.
A game of scrabble proceeded with our incidental cabin mates-- a couple that had skiied up that same day. To candlelight and the illumination of headlamps a lively discussion proceeded on imaginative words and life in a small community.
Breakfast consisted of a bowl of eggs, coffee and hummous. The return lies before us. Eric goes about his preparations in silence; working, chopping, cleaning with only the occassional spurt of communication. The words he does say are intense and measured. He is eager to return in time for our rendez vous with his Cynthia. Today is their five year anniversary. He wants to get it off to a good start!