CMP Review 2026-02-27

February 27, 2026

Canadian Ski Song

The hills lie white and silent sleeping in the snow
The trail lies tracked before us, tramped by other skis,
The sky is blue above us, urging us to go
And glide the mantled meadows, breast the upland breeze.

The Sumac cones glow crimson, red against the white,
A Blue-Jay blue and brilliant screams across the trail,
The snow beneath us crunches, faster grows our flight,
As swiftly o’er the waters glide the ships full-sail.

The energy of freedom fills the veins with fire,
The heart beats fast untrammelled, free as clouds that race
We climb and glide the uplands, found the heart’s desire,
The rush of air around us, the wind against the face.

The iron hills surround us, solemn in their sleep,
The susurrus of swishing skis fill the atmosphere,
As rhythmically gliding, swift where slopes are steep
We rush the narrow speed way, dropping sudden, sheer.

The ancient and eternal lure of snow and hill,
Now calls and ever will call, stir our lethargy,
Until we glide the ski-trail free of heart and will,
Free of the earth’s great uplands, free as the winds are free.

by Arthur S. Bourinot (1923, died 1969, Ottawa, Canada)

@antonella.f.greco

(This poem is about downhill skiing, but in the prairies we make do with cross country plus a few small hills here and there.)