Dancing in the snow
Have you ever awakened to see the frosty chill of a Denver morning where you can look out of the frosted window and see the fresh blanket of soft snow gleaming in the morning light? Well, I have and it fells like paradise. The skiing is brilliant in the wintertime, the snow is natural and the scenery is a bright white sight. Denver may not have the highest mountains in the world, but they are considered some of the most challenging and popular mountains.
My first visit occurred when I was a young fourteen-year-old. One night after my surprise birthday party, my daddy sat down with me in front of the flaming fireplace and casually said, We’re going to Denver. I felt an amazing rush go through my body as I jumped for joy and hit my head on the shelf lying above my conformable chair. My head started to bleed, but nobody noticed until blood started rushing down my happy face.
Then one cool morning my family packed up and headed to the beloved resort of Keystone. After a four-hour plane trip, which seemed like days, I saw for the first time the unique snowflakes. We arrived in the small, cozy house, which was built with thick reddish-brown brick to keep the hard to get heat inside to keep our bodies warm. Through the front door was the living room, which was filled with pictures of mountain wolfs and three large, white, soft couches centered around a tea table and an already lit crackling fire. The carpets were spotless white and lead to the back door.
I walked outside into the back yard and took a deep breath, which was crystallized immediately. I sat down on the frozen curb and listened peacefully to the wind chimes blowing in the distance. The soft untouched snow covered the ground perfectly until suddenly my crazy brother tackled me into the blanket of snow. We started to snowball fight, but I quickly stopped when my brother hit my already frozen ear with a big hard snowball. If you have ever been hit on the ear when it’s cold, you know that it fells as if you had been plucked a million times non-stop. The sun was drifting away and so were my sleepy eyes.
That night I was sleeping in the chili basement, I woke up in the middle of the night with no covers on, and shaking like a scared little boy. The next morning I awoke to a mild snow blizzard, which floated down to cover the icy ground. Everyone was glad to see the blizzard, because the fresher the snow, the better the skiing. We covered ourselves in thick layers of warm ski clothes. As I put on my insulated underwear and wool socks, I thought to myself wow it’s going to a cold day. My thick, blue ski overalls and bright red sweater went on following the puffy orange jacket. I looked like a fat rainbow man whose was born to ski. The enormous mountains were harmlessly beautiful, like a picture post card, but at the same time dangerously intimidating, like a calculus exam. We finally entered the magical kingdom of Keystone.
When I walked into the Keystone resort, I could hear the kids playing in the snow, the huge ski boots crushing the ice and snow, and the ski lifts struggling to pull the tourists up the mountain. Many people of all ages were having a good time with snow ball fights and if I watched real closely sometimes the older tourists would get hit with a snowball in the back of the head. By the time they quickly turned around the young wild snow throwers were gone with the wind. The stores and restaurants surrounding the ski mountains were jammed packed with people trying to get warm and grab a quick bite to eat. After being inside the warm building, I walked outside into the frosty weather and my face tingled as the frosty wind blew against it.
Naturally, the first thing I did was dance in the snow while I sang I’m dreaming of a white Christmas! Then I rolled up a fat hard