The lifts were closing and the family had headed down the mountain. My dad and I decided to take one last run down. The busy mountain house was deserted and the maintenance workers had taken over, trying to get their jobs done quickly on a cold and snowy day in Colorado.
Unlike them, however, my dad and I were out to enjoy the moment to the fullest. It was the last run of the trip and the last run of our vacation. We started down, not really even following any signs or planning our route. We were just soaking up the atmosphere.
Snow. Stillness. Solitude.
We meandered down the trails in no hurry, stopping when we saw something we wanted to look at closer, often finding ourselves the only people within sight.
This is a rare thing on a busy Colorado mountain during Spring Break. And, yet, here we were.
We realized we'd stumbled into a beautiful moment and soaked it up, turn by turn. We savored each picture-perfect moment. We knew our time was limited.
So we stopped. We took pictures. We looked closer. We listened. We did all the things you never get to do in the middle of the day when the runs are packed, filled with ski school classes, families, and crazy teenagers pushing the limits of speed.
When we got down, I looked at my dad and said, "That was the highlight of my trip."
There are a thousand fabulous moments from our trip that stand out as special and memorable, and I know that I will, indeed, remember them. But this was different.
This was perfect in its rarity and in the fact that we recognized the moment and didn't let it slip by unobserved.
Perfection savored. What could be better?