Viviana's Field

We ski the outstretched gradual trail to Viviana’s Field to the spot we think would be acceptable. A marvelous sight with the windmills decorating the tops of the mountains greets us. Watching the scenery like a child in awe of a magic trick, Catherine proclaims Mother Earth’s beauty as do I and Caroline. 

Catherine believes she is thoroughly satisfied, but Caroline seeks more than the half-way-up-the-hill spot we chose and ventures further up the ski trail, the reflective snow at her side. Catherine is hesitant to leave the sight we have stumbled upon. I follow Caroline, and as we meet the road, we clip off our skis. With skis and poles in hand, we start our jog up the steep dirt road, legs heavy. The reluctant Catherine isn’t far behind me and ahead of us we see the adventurous, fun Caroline: her silhouette carrying the skis that have taken her so many kilometers. She finds a spot at the crest of the hill and rests. Catherine and I decide to start walking as we are out of breath. When we reach the spot Caroline has found, we try to catch our breath but She has stolen our breath from us just by welcoming us to Her beauty. A warm orange hits our faces, seeming to relieve all stress. We stick our skis into the French macaron style snow and listen to the wind pass us by. We watch Her close Her eyes and disappear behind the blue mountains.