Ruth Mtn

Throughout history humans have been carefully attuned to the seasons.  Monitoring sun, moon and stars.  Anticipating solstices and equinoxes.  Not me, I’m sadly to busy with modern life.   Every time I see a full moon I’m basically shocked.   The last powder day of winter tends to pass me by and all my plans for spring turns tend to melt away into a sudden change to summer.

So I’m incredibly grateful when I manage to claw my way out of a multitude of responsibilities to enjoy a rare transitional day from fall to winter.  It doesn’t happen every year.  But as often as not the first wet, cold front of the year will be followed by a day of mild, clear weather.

 The trailhead covered in fall leaves, soon replaced by a skiff of snow, deepening near tree-line, then ascending into the high peaks where winter already has a firm grip.

I’m grateful for where we live, grateful for who I still am, grateful for the boss who tolerates my antics, grateful for the 3 bars of LTE that let me taunt my friends from the summit, grateful for all the joy snow brings and grateful for the inexorable change of seasons.