What a wonderful week of weather: snow, fog, hail, and gloriously filled rain clouds. Do you ever just feel the poetry in nature and unable to find the right words? This week was that for me. After craving sweet solitude, I set out on a solo hike every evening this past week.
Monday, it all began early in the morning. It was chilly with the aroma of frost in the air. Everyone knew snow was coming. Just after breakfast, the snow began to fall and didn’t stop until early early the following morning. My shift ended in the evening, and I set out for a hike. Large fluffy snowflakes were falling all around me. They nestled in my mustard-colored beanie and braided hair. It was a fairyland. I walked up to the cliff beside the ranch and stood for a while just watching the valley disappear in snow and twilight. I was in an unprintable poem.
Two hours quickly passed, and I reluctantly left the cliffs. In my own little world, I strolled back to the ranch, up the drive, and around the saloon…WHAM! A snowball pelted me right in the face. In a whirl of white chaos, a ranch crew snowball fight broke out. It was certainly one of my favorite evenings of the season.