I never thought I would ask myself that question, but do I? I have always loved the smell of snow in the air that first day of the winter. Always had to stop myself from running outside when the first snow flakes fall from the sky, always waited impatiently and moaned about late November rains. But this year I’ve noticed that I don’t mind a warm autumn at all.
During first months after the accident in February, I never experienced fear. Not because I didn’t think about what had happened, and not because I rationalized why it had happened, I just felt that it was something that had happened and that I could learn from and that, yes, it might happen again (although I would of course do my best to avoid it), but that it would be worth it. Worth taking some risks to be out there, in those white beautiful mountains.
I was super annoyed that I couldn’t go straight back and get up on my shiny white horse again.
During the past few weeks, the wind has gotten colder here in Umeå. Winter is approaching. It is high time to visit Utebutiken and put my order for a new pair of skis. But ever since I and Martin went back to Kittelfjäll in search of our lost gear, I have sensed the presence of a highly unwelcome and squirming creature in my stomach. Do I really long for winter? I don’t know anymore.
I mean I do – I love winter, and I long to play around on fluffy white pillows or charge down a mountain side – but I also don’t. That irrational fear has come over me again. Its going to take a whole lot of work dealing with it.
On a different, but related topic, I just heard that Andreas Fransson and JP Auclair died in an avalanche yesterday. They were climbing a colouir on the border between Chile and Argentina when the mountain avalanched above their heads.
My heart skipped several beats as I read the news. Those missing heartbeats of course go out to friends and relatives, but I also save some go to myself. I didn’t know either of them, but I’ve followed their adventures and it somehow feels as if I too have lost a friend.
I know that Andreas Fransson was well aware of the risks involved, and I’ve heard him talk about death without fear, but still – the world has lost two extraordinary men. I wish we hadn’t.