The god of skiing

Easter comes late this year, about as late as it can possibly get. The sun is warming, but the mountains are still covered by white snow.

The mountains are crowded. There are people everywhere. That’s an Easter tradition in Winterland. That’s how people spend their Easter holidays.

Some go out on long ski trips. Some just find a nice place to sit in the snow, make a camp fire, and eat lunch, with the kids and the dog and Mother-in-Law. Maybe someone even think of Jesus suffering on the cross. I doubt it. We have better Gods at hand.

The Bible hardly mentions snow at all, and there is certainly nothing about skiing. What kind of religion is that?

Today we went into the valley named after the Norse God of skiing. His name is Ull. He’s not as famous and powerful as his colleague Thor with the Hammer, but a God well suited for our needs up North, for those who insist on having one, or more.

I don’t. I just ski.

(I grabbed my camera and took the picture above when we passed by the little hill on our way into the mountains. I don't know who the people are, but they demonstrate typical Winterlandic Easter celebration out in the snow)