[I’d like to give you MyMac readers some exclusive content, but this fresh piece is too nice to leave at my Salon blog. I’ll keep trying. — JHF]
Who knows how much powder fell last night?
It was awesome watching the huge fluffy flakes fall silently straight down when I turned on the outside light. There’s plenty for now, at least, and lot more than can be seen in this picture. Here’s a gander through my kitchen window. That’s the neighbor’s adobe just the other side of their woodpile. The husband is a really cool Hindu PhD from NYC who chants his prayers outside every morning, makes me want to be anything but white-bread Johnny, I tell you what. What a great neighborhood.
The clouds are still oozing snow onto the higher peaks, so I can’t see any blue sky yet. When the sun comes out, it’ll be stunning beyond belief.
Which reminds me: when I first moved out here and started bitching about the hardships, a friend in Maryland told me I couldn’t live on landscapes. Well, that’s true. But after four years, I don’t know how I could live without the kind of raw drama of nature that grabs me by the neck and makes me gasp. And speaking of hardships, economic and otherwise, do NOT “retire” out here, no matter what the idiot tourist people tell you! I’m not kidding. It will blow up your life and kill you. If you want your old self blown away, fine, go for it. Anyway, I’m not remotely in a state of rest.
Late blooming all the way to my grave, I am.
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