|| Mountain winds sound exactly like the Ocean's Waves ||
The gear has been ordered. Boards have been polished. The snow has started to fall. Ice covers the floor, the evenings are dark but the fires are lit. Each hand is gloved, hot chocolate in throat. Waiting. The temperatures are minus. Sun kissed freckles have vanished. People are queuing. The gondolas are running, chair lifts are moving, the shops are stocked.
The doors have opened. The mountain season has begun.