The sun shone brightly. The temperature was 45°. I was in a sparkling mood. I set the time to 1:10 at Sunset Valley Golf Course, the only available off-season near me. I was in outdoor winter gear to challenge the steeps & slopes that were aided by the chilly winds of Pompton Plains.
I had iced Americano, water, and chocolate in my hand cart. The green shades made the green valley even greener. The leafless wilderness on the hills, under the neat blue sky, added more to the incredible landscape of the valley. It seemed as if trees and bushes on the mountains sacrificed their share of chlorophyll for the shining grass of the fairways. The hills had kept their lap, the valley green. In Punjabi, the green lap is an allegory of pregnancy. Isn’t each pregnancy a progression of life? Or maybe life is a miracle? Miracles only happen in the valley of prayers. And this valley itself is an answer to some prayers.
The ambiance of the course, the January chill, the winter’s wind, the grandeur of the hills, sips of iced coffee, and the warmth of the shining sun made this round remarkably unique. No matter how I performed, a golf round in winter on East coast America always had a distinct fragrance and personal satisfaction. Yet it takes a certain madness to play golf in January in the New York area. However, the world is made by the wise. Only the crazy dare to seek its perks.
“The hardest mountain to climb is the one within.”
In the land of skiers and ice hockey, in the society of surfers and bungee jumpers, in the clubs of mountain climbers and peak hunters, playing winter golf is a humble participation in a collective effort. If only others could agree to a golfer’s point of view. I am proud to be a meek sharer in winter sports.
“Go find yourself first so you can also find me.”
Images: Sunset Valley Golf Course
Golfer, Blogger, Entrepreneur, Author, Poet, Wanderer, Photographer, Rebel.
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