On bitterly cold days at the ski slope, I dress in so many layers that I barely talk to anyone else when we’re outside. The only people I can recognize are the ones I know so well that I've memorized their clothing. On the chairlift, I sit huddled against the metal back of the chair, afraid to move lest the fleece covering my face slip and expose a bit of skin.
Warm days like today are a luxury. How wonderful to pull off a mitten to adjust a binding and not have to calculate how long it would be before my fingers would turn blue and fall off. On the chairlift, I actually removed BOTH mittens to so that I could snap a few photos with the little point-and-shoot camera I had in the pocket of my coat. I ran into an old friend and recognized her right away, because her face was uncovered.
All over the mountain, I could see the affect of the sunny weather. Icicles hung from the roof of the ski lodge. Kids threw snowballs at each other. People with bare faces smiled at each other and called to friends.. Groups stood around talking and joking, instead of just skiing or boarding down the mountain as fast they could. On warm days, skiing and snowboarding become social sports.