When the ice in your drink lasts only a few minutes and shade becomes essential, winter starts to feel less like a distant season and more like something you genuinely miss, a thought that tends to arrive quietly, maybe after your second iced coffee or the third time you say, "It's so hot today," and once it does, it stays.
Suddenly you are thinking about the mountains. Snow underfoot, early mornings, that first breath outside that wakes you up in a way no coffee ever quite manages. Pulling on a jacket first thing in the morning, stepping outside into silence, skis clicking into place, the lift rising slowly as the valley opens up below.
No plans yet, just memories. And that is how every ski season really begins.