We have been homebound this weekend, as I waited with great anticipation for the mega-snow forecasted to arrive from California. This was supposed to be a really grand snow, the kind you measure in feet, not inches. We definitely got a lot of moisture as I kept mournfully looking out the windows of our high mountain home. Moisture, lots of icy rain, but no snow. We live at an elevation of 7,200 feet. Every time I checked the thermometer we were hovering at 32%. We just couldn’t drop that last degree of heat.
The weather reminds me of a young boy bursting with energy. The valley below us was filled with clouds. The little Jemez river, a thousand feet below, was trying out a throaty roar, engorged with thousands of gallons of water roaring down the canyon walls, punching its way between the banks of this normally docile river. Often we were in the clouds ourselves. As the clouds dropped upon us, all outside views were gone. The clouds would envelope then abandon us, first revealing then hiding canyon walls and mountain tops.
Across our canyon is an 11,000 foot mountain. At its higher elevation our rain was its snow. It was an amazing day for weather. Snow above us, rain upon us and clouds below us.
The weather reminds me of a young boy bursting with energy. The valley below us was filled with clouds. The little Jemez river, a thousand feet below, was trying out a throaty roar, engorged with thousands of gallons of water roaring down the canyon walls, punching its way between the banks of this normally docile river. Often we were in the clouds ourselves. As the clouds dropped upon us, all outside views were gone. The clouds would envelope then abandon us, first revealing then hiding canyon walls and mountain tops.
Across our canyon is an 11,000 foot mountain. At its higher elevation our rain was its snow. It was an amazing day for weather. Snow above us, rain upon us and clouds below us.
