After The Storm - Part 1

 Almost two weeks ago it snowed heavily.

All night and then part of the day.

It was windy and cold and the snow drifts accumulated along the walls of the house and the metal storage building and piled up on the stairs leading up to the front door.

It was a cold day.

Raw and damp and ominous.

By the next morning the storm had passed and the sky was endlessly blue.

After an entire day of cabin fever I was eager to wander outside.

And so was my puppy...............

The morning was clear and very cold, and the world was beautiful.

Everything was covered in a pure white blanket of untouched snow, the sky was completely blue and the lake was calling to me.

After brushing six inches of snow off the Suburban and spending a few extra minutes warming the engine and the inside, I gathered up my hysterical dog and ventured out into the white world......................

Instead of pulling off the road and driving down the dirt double track leading directly to the lake, I pulled the Suburban over to the side of the road at the top of the small hill, not wanting to risk getting the vehicle stuck in the snow.

After releasing Kory from the bondage of the back seat I looked around me for a few moments, enjoying the beauty of my surroundings and internally debating which way to wander.

The wind was cold......................

 The mountains were beautifully pristine.

The lake was so cold and so oxygen-filled that it looked almost black................

 Kory had already headed along the dike and after a few moments of internal debate I decided to follow in the footsteps of my dog.

Yes.............staying high was probably a good idea on this day.

Looking back the way I had come, with Carter Mountain in the background....................

 My enthusiastic, very-happy puppy running back towards me, with Cedar and Rattlesnake Mountains in the background......................

 By the time I realized just how cold it really was, how strong the freezing cold wind really was, and how freezing cold I was getting really quickly, my dog had happily skipped her way off the dike and down the rock wall.

I stopped walking for a few minutes, pulled my wool hat down lower on my head, stuffed my hands deeper into coat pockets, and watched my dog.

Kory was five years older now then when we first got her.

She was now somewhere around 9 or 10 years old.

She couldn't run as far or as long as she used to, but God she was still fast.

I watched as she easily clamored down to the "beach" and watched as she happily sprinted across the snow covered open land.

So smooth and so effortless and so absolutely joyous while in motion.

I already knew that she was headed for the trees at the edge of the open land.

I wasn't sure what the draw was to her, but this is always where she ended up.

I watched her until she disappeared into the trees...................

 Looking further down the South Fork...................

 My puppy was gone.

Lost in the trees as she always is when she is free to roam....................

 It was absolutely freezing.

Too cold to be outside and after waiting for Kory to reappear for a few minutes I decided that it was time to head back to the vehicle.

Suddenly I was very glad that I had taken a few extra minutes to warm the vehicle really well before we left the house.

The Suburban would still be welcoming and warm.

I picked up the pace, suddenly realizing that this walk was a done deal.

This astonishingly beautiful place was just too cold on this day for both woman or beast.

Speaking of which.....................I turned to scan the horizon.

With satisfaction I watched Kory climb easily back up to the dike.

I turned back to the Suburban and kept walking.

She'd catch up................

 Five minutes later we were both back in the Suburban and I cranked the heat onto high, shivering involuntarily.

The walk had been brief but that was OK.

We had both enjoyed brief solitude.  

Brief freedom.  

Brief winter beauty.

A couple of hours later LC, Kory and I would go for a long drive further out the South Fork............................

It is a spur that one feels at this season more than at any other. How nimbly you step forth! The woods roar, the waters shine, and the hills look invitingly near. You do not miss the flowers and the songsters, or wish the trees or fields any different, or heavens any nearer. Every object pleases.... the straight light-gray trunks of the trees... how curious they look, and as if surprised in undress....................John Burroughs, "Winter Sunshine"