Just a Lazy Christmas Eve

Twas the morning before Christmas, and deep in the Mat-Su Valley,
Six intrepid sightseers were getting ready to rally.

Their snowshoes were packed in the truck with great care,
Knowing thigh-deep fresh powder awaited them there.

The hikers were nestled snug in the cab with their coffees,
While the thermometer on the dash dropped below zero degrees.

But with mittens and balaclavas and frozen gumdrops to snarf,
The group set out in the frost for a long winter's march.

When out of the fog they arose with surprise,
To see a whole world emerge beyond ice-crusted eyes.

Up Lazy Mountain they trudged like molasses,
Sweating in frigid air and fogging their glasses.

The low solstice sunlight on new-fallen snow,
Gave a luster of summer to the fog bank below.

When what between two layers of clouds should appear,
But a spread of Chugach Mountains, brilliantly clear.

And a peak in front, so wind-swept and crazy
They knew in a rapid heartbeat it must be Lazy.

A strenuous 3,500 feet they had climbed,
To stand in the wind and breathe something sublime.

They didn't stay long lest their toes become frozen,
But were ecstatic with the Christmas gift they had chosen.

They sprang down the mountain on cold pillows of fluff,
Wondering if one Lazy Christmas could ever be enough.

And they wanted to say, before the frost numbed their lips,
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all awesome trips."