Rider of the Storm

In the mystical blue light of twilight, the rider of the storm stood at the edge of the cliff, his snowboard strapped on and ready to go. The world below was veiled in a soft, luminescent glow, with hues of deep blue and purple, creating an otherworldly scene. On the count of three he dropped in, descending into an endless abyss of powder. Gravity taking hold as as he rode over the edge, snow billowing overhead. The cool, crisp air rushed past him, and for a moment, time seemed to suspend. His heart pounded with exhilaration as he stomped the landing. Hooting and hollering we continued down the slope, carving deep soul turns on the blank canvas that lay before us. These little moments, that feel so surreal, are what make life worth living. On my deathbed I will look back on them and be satisfied with a life well lived. I will not be sad that it is over, but I will smile because it happened.