We are escaping. One, two, three, four of us. We are escaping from a shabby, ill insulated trailer home dressed for the 70's. It's poo brown shag carpets and dilapidated yellow wallpaper is behind us, finally. Here we are in brisk mountain air looking over and smiling at one another as we soar down the slopes on our skis. I smile to my right - all the while giggling at our oddly fitted goggles and red, wind whipped noses. I feel completely in control. The other three zip past me and down the slopes. I see them make it to our destination: A nice, contemporary and cozy cottage; but I take my time. I'm moving freely and side to side, wearing a smile as wide as my head. I approach the destination to meet the other three. All too suddenly, rather than coming to a nice stop, I realize that I am approaching a ski jump instead. With out enough time to stop myself, I decide to position my self so that I land in the pond that sits slightly to left of the jump. I hit the jump and soar in the shallowest sky, close my eyes and brace myself for the coldest water my body has no desire of sensing. I become enveloped in liquid warmth just seconds later. It's the most surprising embrace and I almost choose not to leave. But I remerge with my goggles missing and I watch the steam rise from the water in all directions. Asfter I wade to the edge of the pond, I pick up my heavy, saturated body and drag it onto the snow, smiling and unaffected by the cold, wet earth beneath me.