The helicopter rotors hurl wind at us.
We sprint forward, hunched
against the blast, fling ourselves
into the seats; and, breathless, we whoop
at the instant surge upward
into the belly of the sky and the domain
of the Alps:
jutting towers of rock,
chandeliers of mist,
dazzling blue backdrop.
We are a curious speck
blowing through the land of giants. We
point exclaim laugh snap
dozens of photos.
360 degrees of window, of beauty
in what feels like slow motion.
Dots on a peak soon sharpen
team buses, mobile TV units, vendor tents,
thousands of fans, helicopters parked
on a grassy field.
Our transport drops down, lands
We spill out and dash
to the edge of the field, shouting
like kids just off a roller coaster,
having the time of our lives.