Large, white snowflakes swirl around the air,

catching onto my long eyelashes.

Let’s go, my dad says excitedly

as he thrusts his yellow Ski-Doo helmet over his head.

I zip up my black Yamaha snowmobile jacket over my black bibs

as my mother decides which pair of gloves to wear.

My brother laces up my bulky boots,

making sure they are tight.

I pull my matte-black helmet onto my head,

and stride onto my swift snowmobile as the exhaust billows into the air.

My dad accelerates onto the frozen, snow-covered lake,

heading for the trail entrance.

Striking air streams through the vent in my helmet,

and my cheeks turn bright red.

We glide onto the smooth, newly groomed trail,

heading north from Rhinelander towards Eagle River.

I turn a sharp corner,

my snowmobile skis drifting in the thick snow.

Snowflakes sail onto the frozen ground,

covering the dried summer grass and creating a new world.

Falling silently and slowly, 

it seems like time has stopped.

I wonder how the world can look completely new,

refreshing my mind and appreciating the miracle of life and nature.

I am reminded of the days riding in the sleigh behind my dad’s snowmobile,

my brother’s helmet hitting mine at each bump.  I am only four.

Then, I am sitting on the back of the snowmobile,

holding on as hard as I can while I sing songs that are stuck in my head.  I am five.

I see myself feeling jittery and excited,

my first time driving a snowmobile on the winding trails.  I am fourteen.

Most of all, I see my family up north,

snowmobiling until stars sparkle in the sky and snow drops in front of the headlights… 

We cross Jennie Webber Lake,

the snow still falling as we turn the sleds off.

My mother lets our dog out from the house,

as my brothers and I build a snowman under the bright moonlight.