and then our exile

My skiis: actually made in Norway out of two flawless pieces of hickory, and my Uncle Carl bought them when he was about 15, but now is too busy around the farm to ski any more, and so passed them on to me. But, because the tar on them is still sticky-wet from yesterday (how long does it take for tar to dry?), I was forced into plastic for the first time in about two years. Extremely light--the best word i can find for them (though it doesn't really fit)(yes it does) is "flippant". Too they made me flip for the second time this season. Also they're fishscale, which is wyrd.
Hadn't been out for a while--got to the back, and found the Takbeer I'd enscripted on snow two weeks ago in the full moon with a ski-pole, still there. Also the criss-cross of multitudinous tracks on the front hill, residue from Zacharia's brothers&sisters.
Noor and i lay under a spruce tree and she fell asleep and i watched chickadees.
Usman is just woken up and come toddling out of my parents' room making happy little-people noises. I go.