Awakenings

Eric and Pam left on Sunday and I went through the usual withdrawal symptoms of when one of my kids leaves after a few days of togetherness. The house gets quiet, the laughter stops, the food is less interesting (also less fatty!), the wine is replaced with milk. As all my guests are required to do, they each wrote an entry into the guest book - but didn't want me to read them until after they left. No wonder: Eric's was so sad that it made me sob: he probably will not have an opportunity to return to this apartment before I must sell it. He has come here since he was a toddler and there are so many happy memories associated with this place. As I am myself treasuring every moment here, I am also keenly aware that time is running - and will run out quickly. I am still toying with the idea of extending my stay in the Engadin beyond the few months I was initially planning on, but Eric's visit was a reminder of how much my kids mean to me, how I enjoy spending time with them, and how much more difficult it is to do so while I live on another continent. Meanwhile, one of the two job applications I submitted was promptly rejected. The other one, for the train, is still pending. I am putting much effort into taking it one day at the time, not to worry about my future, to see what happens, and let things happen.

Eric and Pam were very lucky with the weather - winter returned for the duration of their stay, which here is much more enjoyable than spring. Snow days alternated with glorious sunny days, cold enough to keep the trails in good condition - easy to walk on in winter boots. Luckily I don't have a garden in which I would have had to hide the easter eggs: it snowed all day on Sunday, and most of Monday before it cleared again. We spend Saturday night coloring eggs and Sunday morning looking for them. Meanwhile I have learned why Easter is associated with eggs - at least according to the local paper: during Lent people were not allowed to eat eggs and therefore they boiled them to preserve them until Easter - at which time they had accumulated a considerable amount. One egg would be buried next to the house to protect it from fire, floods, landslides and lightning.

Last Tuesday I couldn't stand it anymore and hauled my cross-country skies back out of the basement for one last excursion, up the Val Roseg, leaving from Pontresina. I took an early train to be able to ski on hard snow as long as possible. 1 k before the restaurant (here in the winter, the end point often is a restaurant) I had to abandon the skis because the track had been covered by an avalanche and I continued on foot. Since I had brought a picnic lunch, I looked for a place to rest and eat. I didn't find any near the restaurant, and took the trail that continued up the valley. I ended up going for another hour, all the way to the back, where I was face to face with the 4,000 meter mountains and the glacier. I was all alone, it was most spectacular and rewarding. Unfortunately by the time I finally decided to go back and reached my skis, the snow had become very soft and it was a slow slog back to the train station. I spotted a few groups of chamois and did my best to ignore the eerie and unsettling feeling created by the avalanches that were constantly crashing down the steep slopes, like giant intermittent waterfalls. Obviously they designed the trail very carefully!

Talking about eerie feelings: yesterday I decided to change gear (literally) and to hike down to the next town via the north slope of the valley, which is also the sunny side. Looking from down here it seemed that most of the snow was gone. I learned that it's difficult to estimate how much snow there is looking from below. It ended up being the most challenging, and probably downright stupid walk: me, alone, traversing on the steep slope, in still deep snow, with hardly any tracks. Luckily I was wearing my good hiking boots and had my stick with me. For a short section the trail went straight up, on bare ground. This is where I almost stepped on a viper that was stretched out along the trail. She was not going to yield, so I did, politely - I am not arguing with a viper. Once at a safe distance I took my camera out, and took a few pictures. All of a sudden a mouse scurried by just below us. This was about to become very interesting. Indeed, the viper had not missed the mouse either and started making its way in the mouse's direction, slithering through the snow. And then I saw the other viper, also some 3 feet from me, but on the other side. I was caught between 2 vipers, converging into a V. My only escape was up the hill, over the scree where no doubt more vipers were warming themselves in the sun. Once more my stick became invaluable, as I repeatedly tapped the rocks around me to warn all the vipers that I was coming through, giving them much time to hide.


Must go: tomorrow I am catching the 6:13am train to go to St. Gallen to fix lunch for my aunt. It will be an 4 hour train ride each way... But I want to do that for her. She has been house bound all winter and is in much pain because of rheumatism. Perhaps some company will be good for her spirits.

In case you haven't seen them: my pictures of Chalandamarz are now posted on Picasa: http://picasaweb.google.com/irenevlach/Chalandamarz#