Dec 092012
 

This week a friend who grew up near Yosemite teased me about my frequent Facebook updates about the snow. “Snow!! In GERMANY?!”

Yeah.  Yeah.  OK.  It isn’t like the travel brochures gloss over that part.

But, the fact is that I have very little experience with snow!  I grew up 2 blocks from the beach near L.A.  No snow there.  Santa Cruz?  No.  Irvine?  No.  San Jose?  No.  Castro Valley?  Nope.  Oddly, the only place we lived that got even a little snow was Santa Clarita, which is technically a desert.  Usually 100 F+ for 9 months of the year, every so often a freak storm would drop a centimeter or two of shiny crystal powder on us.  It would invariably melt before the afternoon was over.  But, I can’t deny that it happened. Other than that I saw snow maybe 5-6 times in my whole life.  I certainly never lived anywhere with actual cyclical seasons. Seasons that would change in a progressive and predictably colorful way from green to gold to glorious fire to white and back to green.

So, perhaps, armed with that knowledge, you will forgive me a little confession.  This week while David was driving and I was busy snapping photos of the snow-blanketed landscape, I actually found myself weeping at the beauty of it!  I was completely overcome.  Giggles and gleeful hiccups kept escaping– and the poor kids had to check to make sure I was OK.  “Is Mom…. crying from happiness?!?” our astonished son gasped. “Yes,” my husband replied, shaking his head with equal parts horror and pleasure.

I am known to be one of the more emotional members of our little clan but, this was intensely unexpected even for me.  I probably sounded like the double rainbow guy- only less stoned.  We were driving down the autobahn and each new scene was worthy of a postcard.  There were hawks sitting in white fields, long rows of stark trees creating a somber contrast to the increasingly uniform whiteness, and there were children dragging sleighs and throwing snowballs.  I am an adult woman with middle age well within reach, and these were sights I had only seen before on television.

I can’t hope to convey the emotions I experienced to you.  But, here are a few of the images I have been contemplating.

 

  One Response to “Wild and Wooly Weather and the Wealth of Wonder it Wraught”

  1. You come by it through the genes. I did it all the time when I lived there.

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