Fairyland Point

We leave later than usual for our afternoon snowshoe/ski trek.

It's Amy's birthday; we have lunch in the restaurant 

for the first and only time.

Complimentary birthday treat

4:30 before we start out for Fairyland Point.

Only an hour until dark.

We’ve never been on this trail;

we have no idea what to expect.

Amy skis on ahead of me and I soon lose sight of her,

Expecting to see her when I get to Fairyland Point.

No Amy.

Silence.

Where could she go on her skis?

I take a few pictures and start back slowly,

Hoping she will catch up with me along the way.

She is never in sight when I glance back.

Arriving at the car, I stretch;

I wait.

I sit in the car and play a game to distract me.

Should I call DeRay, the Ranger, or 911?

It’s pretty dark when she skis up.

She had taken off her skis and hiked down in.

She thought I would see her skis and know.

Of course, she’s OK.

I pictured her skiing off the edge on her birthday.

Or lying injured in the snow.

It would be a fluke if anything happened to her;

In spite of my vivid imagination.

But it was a fluke when Daddy fell to his death

When I was 10 years old.

It was two days before they found him.

That’s indelible.