I felt fragile this morning, and since I'd given myself an extra day in Whistler figured that I'd take the morning off. And the bear wanted to see the mountain (evidentally she'd tired of the succession of bars.)
Up we went, feeling a little foolish in our casual clothes while surrounded by skis, boards and portly individuals wearing jackets that only further emphasised their egg-like appearance.
The mountain was, of course, stunning. The Bear peered out to the horizon. I listened to The Beatles' 'Eleanor Rigby' on the PA which seemed somehow appropriate at that moment.
When we returned to the village, something wonderful happened. Yesterday I lost my skis. Well, someone took my skis (I assumed by mistake) and I'd had to rent some more. I was looking down the barrel of the cost of new skis... but... there they were. Whoever had taken them had realised their mistake and returned them. Back where I'd left them.
Whoever you are, thank you. The Bear thanks you too. Stuff like this, and the re-appearance of Ms Sundae's jewellery really gives me a sense that there are more decent people in the world than we give credit for.
And now the snow is calling.
