Winter in the mountains make you feel like you are far away from the sand, the shore, the malls and the sweaty deserts of Southern California.
Winter in the mountains almost makes you believe sometimes, you can close your eyes and wake up in Colorado. There are mountain slopes, glowing white with fresh powder against a cloud dotted blue sky, hawks flying overhead and even though its still winter birds can be heard chirping in the tall pine trees.
I grew up in these mountains. When I was a kid we would get four feet of snow in a single storm. The power would be out all day. Our house would be lit with candles, a big fire going in the old fireplace to keep the house a little warm. We would spend all day playing board games, domino’s, Monopoly or backgammon, or we would spend hours putting together jigsaw puzzles. That was until my mom kicked us out of the house to shovel the driveway or tried to teach us how to seal a concrete driveway. Sometimes our snow blower worked, most of the time it did not. So us kids would be in charge of shoveling the long driveway and unburying all of my dads 10 or so cars. Okay I don’t think he ever actually had 10 at one time. I don’t think.
When I was young the storms would leave mountains of snow in our front yard, sometimes the snow was higher then I was. I would spend hours outside shoveling, my fat cat Boots my only companion on a freezing morning. The only sound, maybe a snow blower in the distance. Boots loved to chase snowballs. There were no birds to catch in the winter, and he was a hunter. I didn’t mind those solitary mornings, just me and my cat in a snowy forest.
|Muddy tires after winter off roading in snow and mud|