Okay, so we weren’t really supposed to be here. I mean–not really. Winter at 5000 feet can be brutal and that’s why we closed up the mountain place and kissed it goodbye, for a while, at Thanksgiving.
But then January came, and an opening on the calendar. And we looked at each other with the very same thought and before you knew it here we were unloading groceries and bags of thick sweaters and stacks of new books and lickity-split the whole place was DE-winterized and we settled in.
We were delighted.
The views are spectacular any time of year but there is something really special about January. The air is brisk and clear and the weather is constantly changing. Not to mention there is overwhelming joy in providing for hungry winter birds.
Nights were cold, but days were reasonably mild, and we delighted in our wonderful decision.
Then Saturday came, and Sunday, and Monday.
It was not a surprise, I will say that, us monitoring the weather up here like it’s our JOB and also our RELIGION. We closed-off rooms and taped-off doors and hunkered down, ready for the epic freeze.
And it came. Oh, how it came.
First there was wind, then all-day snow, and we watched as the temps dropped to 30, to 20, to 10. It was somewhere around 4 degrees when we went to bed Sunday night, figuring overnight it hit 0 or below.
And that’s not accounting for wind chill which believe you me can get mighty significant up here.
Morning did come, along with eventual sun, and we sprinted from window to window. Is there still snow? Hey did you see this? Come look now! We were kids in a candy shop, kids with a warm roof and a giant fireplace and a backup generator, kids who got to enjoy the spectacle of The Great Weather Event from our warm, cozy inside.
We even got a quick, cold, magical look at the Super Blood Wolf Moon.