By Merisa Sherman The water was so calm, you could have heard the drops from the paddle as you glided along if we all weren’t talking and laughing so much. The sunset pinks were just coming up over the sky and the water was taking on the hues as well. We went from being surrounded…

By Merisa Sherman I sigh as I stare at the pile of green loops. One after the other, they are stacked on top of each other; well, as organized as a pile of loops can possibly be. I reach for the one exposed end and start walking away. I could do the hand over hand…

By Merisa Sherman He was just a pup when he went on his first adventure, his tiny little body no bigger than my dad’s ski boots. Little Coopie was fascinated, getting himself stuck underneath the heel of my dad’s boot. They learned to ski uphill together, my dad and his dog. Together, they figured out…

By Merisa Sherman As I moved forward, I could feel the wind nipping at my face. My hair went flying backward and I shook my long hair from the poor braid I had made that morning. I stretched my arms long as my legs extended straight forward, providing me the balance to lean so far…

Down the street they march, as they have marched for almost 250 years, their red, white and blue waving proudly for all to see. Families line the roadway, cheering loudly as their favorite fire trucks and organized groups roll on by. Little ones, having on idea what nationhood means and certainly have no idea who King…

By Merisa Sherman I could tell she was a little nervous. You could see how small she made herself, her little arm wrapped around her mom’s leg as she peered around from the back. She wanted to be there and didn’t want to miss anything, but at the same time she wasn’t quite sure what…

By Merisa Sherman I was shaking from the inside out. I could feel it in my chest, my arms and legs and all the way into my fingers and toes. My heart was racing faster than if I had climbed Trail A up Killington. My voice came out raspy and I couldn’t catch my breath.…

By Merisa Sherman I could feel the wind in my hair, the sun on my face and hear the laughter of my friends nearby. You could feel the energy surrounding you, almost warmer than the sun, as sleepy people turned to offer each other hugs and mimosas. It reminded me of graduates waiting for their…

By Merisa Sherman How do you start your day? If you have been reading any self-help books or scrolling the internet lately, you might have seen a remarkable trend: The all-importance of the morning routine. They might all vary on the precise implementation of this routine and what is essential versus what is recommended, but…

By Merisa Sherman I could hear him. He was there, skiing the line next to me and humming or singing, I’m not really sure which. It was like the two put together although I’m not sure how that could be. I tried to focus on my own turns, on the line of moguls before me…

By Merisa Sherman I can feel the squishy soil in between my toes with each step. My toes spread apart as they sink into the freshly rained upon ground and I know I am joining with the earth. I can feel my toes curl downward as I reach my opposite leg forward, striding through the…

By Merisa Sherman In Japan, citizens of all kinds take pilgrimages to bless aspects of their lives. Business will travel to remote temples to have a monk bless their financial futures; old women will come, panting with each step, so they may have a blessing for their grandchildren; and the young come without knowledge, looking…

By Merissa Sherman I was at a bonfire party, staring at the beautiful clear sky. The stars were starting to come out, just a little twinkling and the wind had noticeably evaporated. It was weird, and almost unnoticeable except for the fact that the wind hadn’t stopped roaring for the entire month of April. And…

By Merisa Sherman I cannot pull away. I want to ride Cascade over and over and over again. Ok, alternating with Downdraft. They have been so playful. I could actually feel my heart smiling. So smooth and buttery and beautiful, with a touch of graininess to it. But not that chunky graininess that trips you…

By Merisa Sherman There’s dust in my eyes, but I’m trying to ignore it as I relax in my lawn chair. I have to turn my head to stop the dust from going down my throat — or worse, into my drink. Willing myself to believe that a bluebird 48-degree day is perfect parking lot weather, …