Date: Nov. 15, 2006
Tags: Seven, Springs, Pa, Snow, Skiing, Real, Estate, Laurel, Highlands, Resort

Nature’s Cirque du Soleil                                                         

 

When I awake each morning my slowly opening eyes scan the nearby woods in hopes of seeing a wondering creature.  Is there a deer?  A turkey?  Wow, how about a black bear?

 

None of those are wondering through today.  Instead, in the thirty-five foot maple tree that stands outside my bedroom window has become my own Circus de Soule.  Now picture this tree that has dropped its bright golden leaves to uncover a maze of branches.   Vertical, diagonal, horizontal, every which way you can imagine these branches intertwine.  And in the center of this web is a lone squirrel.  Once having had a squirrel as a pet, I have a special fondness for all squirrels.  But the antics of this particular squirrel seemed choreographed especially for me.  It runs from branch to branch.  Then with out any hesitation dives straight down, as many as ten feet at a time.  Landing safely, it scurries back to the top only to perform a similar antic.  Occasionally he’ll pause as if pondering the next feat.  Sometimes during the pause he appears to stare in my direction making sure I’m watching.  Is he really entertaining me?  Can he sense or see in my eyes the wonder of his feats?  How does he do that? 

 

Date: Nov. 14, 2006
Tags: Seven, Springs, Pa, Snow, Skiing, Real, Estate, Laurel, Highlands, Resort

While shuffling through the recently fallen leaves on one of the resorts pathways, “ I can smell winter coming”.  

 

Well, I’m not really sure what that quote means. One of the “true locales” (a person born on the mountain, not transplanted here like most of us) made that statement the other day. He said it with the voice of authority leaving me to believe winter would soon be here.

 

I began to wonder what he smelled and was I capable of the same smells. So... How do I describe what I smell? I can smell the mix of wet leaves starting to morph into fertile humus. I smell smoke from the many nearby fireplaces. On occasion I smell a hint of cinnamon as I past the many homes.  Are these the smells of coming winter?

 

I guess these smells along with the crisp air are indicator of the “smell of winter coming”.  In any event those of us who ski are ready for the snow to fly.  Probably the scenes like those at the top of this page are the true indicators of “winter coming”. 

 

Last year we were skiing the Saturday after Thanksgiving.  So, with the “smell of winter coming”, the crisp air, and a little luck we’ll repeat last years' early start.