It seems logical that we should be now nestled at the beginning of September, and yet it feels untimely. I wasn’t ready for the beginnings of Fall to already announce itself. Even though I delight in attending to the shifts in seasons, anticipating summer’s warmth or winter’s chill, or the advance of spring and how it transforms the earth, I feel as though I’ve been caught unaware. The transition is subtle. You find you need to carry a light jacket or a sweater. The mornings feel nippier and the evenings are blatantly cooler. On cloudy days when the sun peers through the fluffy white you feel struck by its intensity, but the instant it is glazed over you feel the need to wear your jacket again. It’s confusing for my body that is still not acclimatized to Alpine weather. I am never sure when I leave home whether to carry an extra layer or if the jacket I’ve worn is already excessive. It is in the midst of these indecisions that I experience myself as still a newcomer to where I am. I know there will come a time when I will be able to correctly intuit how covered or bare I should be, but until then I am that dependent person annoyingly asking either my partner or my in-laws what constitutes appropriate clothing.

I have made great strides, though, as a trekker. Yesterday we took the Sesselbahn from Sulden to the K2 hut to arrive at an erstwhile glacier. It was my first time on this particular transportational mode. I’ve been before in a basket in which you stand and, airborne, are transported vertiginously from one point to another. The Sesselbahn is infinitely more exciting. You have two-seater units that move continuously from a lower height to a much higher one, and, unlike a cabin car, there is nothing that separates you from the world outside. You can even touch the trees you pass. It’s a common mode in ski regions. Once at the top, we walked through an expanse that was once a glacier and continued until we reached a mountain hut, where we were meant to have lunch. From there we were privy to an astonishing view of three of Südtirol’s most magnificent mountain peaks, Königspitze, Zebrù, and the highest, the Ortler. It was the first time that I didn’t feel overwhelmed trekking. I felt sure I could trust my body’s ability to navigate the landscape, to climb, when necessary, and to regulate my breathing so I didn’t feel defeated by an ascent. Most notably, it was the first time I steered my feet through steep downhill descents with relative ease. The regular exercise I have been doing had really paid off, my knees felt so much stronger and could really absorb the weight of my body during the descent.