One more homage to this winter and the snows it brought for us.
Wake up to a continuing snowfall. You think it's beautiful if it comes in December, but tedious when it comes in late February. Me, i think it's beautiful even now. Even if it means I need to clear the pathway to the farmhouse no fewer than five times today.
We eat breakfast in the front room. It's a place where you can sit back, look out at the snow capped trees and think yourself to be pretty near heaven itself.
My work day is long. But as I pull into our yet once more snow covered dirt road, I think -- maybe there's time still. And Ed tells me -- there's time still!
We go out to ski. It's dusky dusk, but we're determined.
The snow keeps falling. There are no visible trails. We love it. Onwards!
I am sure that this is our last spin in the local park: I'm leaving tomorrow evening to see my mom in Berkeley and by the time I come back at the end of the weekend, I see that even this last snowstorm will be a thing of the past. The great final melt will be underway. But right now, tonight, there is this beautiful cover of snow.
And so we ski as if there is no tomorrow. The snow is sticky and wet, but it doesn't matter. We ski in deep appreciation of the skiing that we had this year. A last run is as good as the first run.
After -- a quick supper of whatever I could find in the fridge.
Tomorrow, I have a long work day followed by a long set of travel hours. I'll post here, on Ocean once I get to San Francisco.