Three Views Towards Kosciusko


I've been away  listening to mountains, the silent fall of snow.Though it's early Spring, something like a winter front waltzed across Thredbo.  The myth that Eskimo-Aluet languages  have thirteen words for snow might be plausibly overtaken by one about an Australian Alpine dialect with fourteen words for slush. One might also coin a word, let's say snowslept, to describe a child so tired from skiing they fall asleep on the chairlift's descent, body softening so they might slip, snow coated parka and Milo bib, between the seat and bar.  Then the word for watching, brushing off the snow, an arm around them as a safety net, saying, quietly; wake up, this is not a good place to fall asleep.

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