Phish is like skiing. You pray for powder. Constantly. Obsessively. Visions of the fluffy white stuff blowing everywhere as you effortlessly bounce between turns. Some seasons the powder is deep. Other seasons it is a bit dry. Sometimes, after a few weeks of no new snow, you wonder if it will every snow again in this damn town.

Last night was hard packed with a few icy patches. I found left over pow in the trees w/ Cavern, Run Like an Antelope, YEM. Apres skiing was festive with a three song encore.

It was a nice day to be out on the slopes but not one I will remember for the snow. Looking out my window now, optimistic as always, trying to decipher if storm clouds are forming up on them there hills. Maybe its my mind playing a trick on me. No matter. It is the end of the season but there is alway a chance for a freak powder day.