This page hanging over our kitchen sink is ripped from "Seasons" by artist Blexbolex.
I wrote about cannibalizing this book here.
Last year our trip to the Sierra Foothills to see the snow looked a lot like that picture. Two feet of snow on every roof, twelve foot high snowbanks alongside the road. Lots and lots of snow.
Exactly one year later, the snow levels are so much lower. We were disheartened when we arrived Friday afternoon. Just enough snow to make a snow owl, which we did. We stayed in Dorrington this time, specifically at the very rustic Dorrington Inn and Chalets, but we are known to stay down the road a piece at the Timberline Lodge in Arnold, where our friends Lucky and Irina bring us fishing in the summer.
Rustic. Would we stay here again? Yes.
Being from New Hampshire, any amount of snow makes me feel so good. Like I am home, plugged into the earth, and totally alive. All of the memories of my youth flood my system. Sometimes living out here in California is so surreal for me. I am totally at home, and at the same time, homesick. This weekend I was nostalgic for our winter wonderland of a trip up this way last year, and also feeling a great amount of concern regarding where the snow has gone this year. But we made the best of our trip, as we are known to do.
We made our way up to Bear Valley for some great sledding on Saturday. Bear Valley is up a few thousand more feet on the hill, so some nice snow there. Oliver is a ballsy sledder for a toddler. He was bombing down hills on David's lap. Stella and I eschewed our rented sled in favor of sledding on our rear ends, which was almost as fast.
We had heard a new storm was coming through, and Saturday night, after dinner and a movie, we waited and waited. By eleven o'clock there was still no snow. We kept our hopes up, as we are known to do.
The scene Saturday evening: no snow.
My eyes popped open at seven o'clock the next morning, and we ran to the window and tore open the sash, to find just what we were waiting for. Snow, falling so fast and soft it was coming down in clumps. It was a sight for sore eyes. I had a good cry.
It snowed for only an hour or two, and then it started melting again. We seized the day, as we are known to do, out in the meadow all covered with snow. We built a fort, we made a small sled run, we ran with the dogs and laid on the ground. All four of us felt lucky we caught that cloudburst of snow. It wouldn't have been the same without it.