It was a moonless winter night, exceedingly cold and so very dark…a liquid sort of dark, black as opium dreams. In that darkness came a moment of satori. A pure, deep awareness. It was a dawning, a sudden illumination.

I realized a snow disk was not limited by the lack of snow; it was limited only by lack of imagination. In fact, it was liberated by the lack of snow. It was set free, no longer to be seen only in terms of sliding, no longer to be understood only in terms of winter.

It was, after all, the Holy Snow Disk. With proper consideration and the judicious use of a flashlight, it could actually become a new dawn, a rising sun. It could become a beating telltale heart in the dark Edgar Allen Poe night. It could be almost anything.