Snow everywhere.

Am I panicked? Depressed? No.

Skateboarding in a northern continent is just as much about losing out as it is enjoying sessions. That’s life, right?

Letting go of skating for the day, I sometimes feel liberated, sometimes longing. Today, with snow falling outside my window, I’m thinking about process and change over time—the narrative of being alive.

The cold end to my attempts at reverts on a bank will suddenly happen eventually, no matter what. That’s okay. I skate for an intrinsic value. Partly, I skate as an artifice to contentedly cruise toward the end with something to look back on. Partly, to focus on my present—feet beneath me on solid ground or floating, holding onto mystery in the wind.

Today will be fine. I’ve got my inch thick, 2 by 4 foot piece of plywood in the basement that will help orient me on the board. May throw in some push ups and lunges if I’m feeling fancy.

I know there’s a conclusion to everything, but not today.

Skate on—

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