Snowshoeing Weekend in the Catskills Catskills週末的雪鞋å¥è¡Œ
I stood on the summit of Big Indian Mountain, snowflakes shaped as feathers landing on my head, my face, and my shoulders. I opened my palms, and looked upward. Those snowflakes were not those which were tired of resting on the branches and responded to the call of the north wind. They were new, from the far most end of the sky. A storm was coming.
Last weekend I was in the Catskills, participating in a two-day snowshoeing trip. The trip has become a tradition of the AMC Delaware Valley chapter. Last winter was my first time being a member of this festival, and here I was again.
I have loved snow ever since I witnessed the first snow falling on Christmas Eve the first year I was in the States. Snow has this wonderful power of purification; snow makes the most inclement winter bearable. Oh, I can write many poems to awe this white fairy. This indulgence at times makes me overlook what is hidden underneath or behind, and I really shouldn’t.
站在Big Indian的山巔上,大片大片羽毛狀的雪花,è½åœ¨æˆ‘çš„é 上ã€è‡‰ä¸Šã€è‚©ä¸Šã€‚我打開雙掌,抬é 目試,這雪花å¯ä¸æ˜¯å‘¼æ‡‰åŒ—風到來,從樹梢颳起的殘雪。這,是新雪,從é™é 的天際冉冉紛紛地è½ä¸‹ï¼Œé å‘Šä¸€å ´ç¾Žæ±é¢¨é›ªçš„é€ è‡¨ã€‚
上週末,åˆåˆ°äº†Catskillså±±å€ï¼ŒåƒåŠ é€™å ´é›ªéž‹å¥è¡Œè¡Œç¨‹ã€‚這行程,是有æ·å²çš„,早已æˆç‚ºAMC Delaware Valley Chapter的傳統。去年冬天是我第一次åƒèˆ‡é€™é›ªéž‹å¥è¡Œçš„æ…¶å…¸ï¼Œè€Œä»Šå¤©å†¬å¤©ï¼Œåˆå›žåˆ°äº†é€™è£¡ã€‚
我愛極了雪。第一次真æ£è¦‹åˆ°ã€æ„Ÿè¦ºåˆ°è½é›ªç´›ç´›ï¼Œæ˜¯ä¾†ç¾Žåœ‹ç¬¬ä¸€å¹´çš„è–誕夜。雪似乎有這種純化人ã€äº‹ã€ç‰©çš„力é‡ï¼Œå„˜ç®¡å†¬å¤©å†å†·å†½ï¼Œæœ‰é›ªï¼Œä¸€åˆ‡å°±è®Šå¾—å¯ä»¥å¿å—。喔,我å¯ä»¥èŠ±å¤§æŠŠå¤§æŠŠçš„ç¯‡å¹…ï¼Œä¸çœ ä¸ä¼‘çš„æŒé Œé€™ç´”白的精éˆã€‚å°±å› ç‚ºé€™å°é›ªçš„迷戀,有時候,竟然忽略了在純美的背後暗è—çš„å±æ©Ÿï¼Œé€™å¯ä¸æ˜¯èƒ½å¤ 原諒的。
Snowshoeing Weekend in the CatskillsCatskills週末的雪鞋å¥è¡Œ Read Post »