The Perfect Storm

To soon!  Thanksgiving is not even history yet

Today was wild...a real winter storm.  40 mph with winds 40mph and gusts to 50.  Actually it was rather fun to watch the blowing snow.  The windows were coated and you could see only a few feet.  It has calmed down now so we are venturing out.  Most roads in the county area are closed.  Just curious to see how things are.

As much as I complain (as do others) about the winter, would I like to miss winter entirely?  No, I think not.  There is something about a wicked snow storm  that is exciting and appealing.  I experience a sense of comfort and security which comes with the knowledge, that  am I protected from its rage.  It provides an oportunity to slow down and observe my surroundings.  The snow covered world looks brighter and refreshed.  The first storm is always the best.  Winter is welcomed in the beginning, but its appeal fades much quicker that the other three seasons.  How sad to be the season many love to hate.  For the moment I will take what it offers and try to be patient with it.          

Winter Survival

  I love winter in Souteastern Idaho.  The end of daylight savings always signals the beginning of glorious days to come.  I wait with fervent anticipation for the first gray day.

  
        No more blue skies with white whispy clouds feathered across the horizon, no warm sun coming through the windows, and no more obligatory time spent reading on the patio.  It is such a relief to free ones self from such unsullied delights.  As 4:30 rolls around I know that shortly it will be dark and time to retreat to the closed up house.  Fatigue will soon follow as my body is in tune with the shortened hours of light.  The soft flannel sheets will start a subduded and distant call gradually escilating in volume until I finally surrender.

     I have accepted this winter life for many years and have endured with only a little complaining because I am an Idaho Woman.  I am from hardy stock and pride myself on being  steadfast.  My ancestors immigrated from the harsh climates of Scandinavia, therefore endowing me with cold genes.  I have always been proud of the fact that I can survive the long bleak winters without large doses of vitiman D from the sun.

     But recently I had an epiphany and it was life changing.  Some friends took me on an eight hour drive to the sun.  HALLELUJAH!  My eyes have been opened.   There is another life out there where winter is not a bleak gray, and  blue skies still exist.  What a revelation to find out that the sun does not leave the universe for seven months out of the year.  It simply moves south.  In this land of sun I found happy, smiling people.  I felt happy too.  My life will never be the same after this discovery.  It will be much, much better. 

    

Friends who took me to the happy place.  See how happy they are.

       

    

Now I know why the relatives from the old country were so grumpy and stoic all winter----they were still looking for blue skies and sunshine.

  I can actually escape the gray,  renew myself periodically and endure the Idaho winter with a fresh outlook.

A November Day

Today was one of those rare late fall days.  You know that there are not many left.  We took advantage of the warm weather and sunshine to take a long leisurely bike ride.  The river was at its best.  It was smooth and reflected the trees and buildings along its banks.  We stopped at Great Harvest for lunch and people watching.  It was a perfect day for me to do some photography and for Nolan to sketch. 

400 sturgeon were released near the Johns Hole Bridge on Thursday.  These men are below the Broadway Bridge.  The water is deep at this point so just maybe they might catch the BIG one.

 What a shame you can't bottle days like this and bring them out one at a time as winter surrounds you and steals the sun away.

beautiful gifts

We took a trip to a part of Utah called The Mormon Corridor.  You past through Fairview, Ephraim, Mt. Pleaseant, Moroni and Manti.  The settlers who developed these small towns built beautiful homes which are testimonies to their hard work, resourcefulness and appreciation of guality craftmenship; cabled roofs, porches and ginger bread trim following the lines of the eves.  Many were built from brick to stand against weather and time.  Chimneys rise above roofs and cast long shadows in the fall sun.  How many families have lived in these homes?  Some are blessed with 21st century families, while others are abandoned and left to slowly die.  All were built with such care and pride.  Their souls must weep as they sit empty while the harsh Utah weather gradually takes it toll.  I wish I could save them all.