Expect the Unexpected

We seem to draw climatic extremes wherever we go. Finally, FINALLY back in Colorado after over two hellishly hot months in Tucson, we were reveling in the crisp 8700 foot Rocky Mountain air on our annual aspen turning week. The week was not strictly a vacation. Having decided to rebuild the cabin we were meeting with the contractor we hoped would build the cabin for us and doing a little site prep which included moving a storage shed off the cabin's footprint. But we were also looking forward to several quiet days of hiking, birdwatching, fishing, and planting ponderosas and firs -- our normal mountain activities.

We arrived Friday afernoon to perfect temperatures, cool in the shade and gently warm in the sun. Saturday we spent the whole afternoon outside with the contractor, on the deck reviewing the plans and wandering the property discussing wells and septic systems.

Sunday we had a long hike to the base of Cedar Mountain, enjoying the changing colors and collecting dried wildflower seeds to scatter on the sunny saddle on our property. We were having friends for brunch the next day and I hoped we'd be able to move the picnic table to the sunny edge of the deck and eat outside.

My husband, a very early riser, woke me up before 7 AM the next morning, saying I had to come up to the swing near the granite peak that is the high point of our land. The fog was rolling through the valley, back and forth like water sloshing in slow motion, a truly mesmerizing sight. Snatches of cloud began sneaking between the swing and the rock not ten feet in front of us, and then the sleet started skittering off the canopy overhead. Unable to tear ourselves away from the ever changing view and plummeting temperature, we sat fascinated beneath jackets and blankets. By the time we'd headed back to the trailer to get brunch underway it had started to snow. When our friends arrived there was already an inch accumulated on the deck. Clearly we would not be using the picnic table.

The snow continued off and on that day and into the next. High temperatures hovered around freezing and we struggled to maintain 60 degrees in the trailer. Eventually three inches of the white stuff covered the deck. It was lovely to watch drift down, slowly smothering the ground and cloaking the trees. We sat inside alternately watching the snow blanketing the red rocks behind the trailer and reading to our heart's content, sipping hot tea or cocoa out of thermal mugs. We did some walking nearby, but didn't stray to far afield as we'd been unable to get anything other than the most general weather forecast. By the next afternoon the sun re-emerged and it seemed to be over. We swept the fluffy dry snow off the deck and the sun quickly finished the job. Tomorrow we'd get back on track with what we needed to get accomplished outdoors. We still had three full days, right?

Wrong. Wednesday morning it started snowing again, in earnest. Something we'd kept in the back of our minds -- our friend's offer of their cabin, complete with fireplace and indoor plumbing -- pushed its way to our consciousness. They were traveling and we knew they wouldn't mind, especially given the circumstances. After breakfast we decamped to what can only be described as an enchanted cottage for the duration of the storm which was predicted to last all that day and into the next.

Their cabin is one of my favorite places and as the fire in the stone fireplace did its job I spent my time looking through each curtained window in turn. How deep is the snow on the arms of the Adirondack chairs now? What's the temperature on the thermometer outside the kitchen window? If I watch long enough what animals -- deer, elk, fox, bear -- will I see crossing under the snow-laden ponderosas out the sitting room window?
We finally settled cozily in front of the fire where I read an entire book and where we decided lots of things about our own cabin. It won't be like the one our friends, built by their own hands over decades, filled with their own art and steeped in their children and grandchildren. We'll be starting from scratch, inspired by the old family A-frame and borrowing on our pasts, shared and otherwise. In time we'll season the new cabin with visits from family and friends, reinstating some old traditions and creating some new ones.

In the end, the weather cooperated the last two days and we did get through our list of must do's. The shed got moved. Trees got planted. Seeds were scattered. Oh, and we had a visit from a water witcher. But that's another story.