It's a cool morning and I sneak a peek at the tall ponderosa pines in the backyard between instagram posts. Finally, the trees catch my attention and I put my phone down to give them my full attention. The pines are bright and green in the morning light. The snow from a few weekends ago has all but melted.
It was beautiful, the snow on the pines, reverse outlining the thick bark, catching in clumps in the clusters of pine needles. It looked like something out of a photo or piece of art, but there I was naturally surrounded. Then the wind blew, and the needles and snow shimmered in the golden light. I remembered an observation of similar pines at a rest stop near June Lake off 395. The glimmering snow blown by the wind described something profound, difficult to communicate in words.
The mornings here are crisp, with the underlying dryness. Not that warm cool of Los Angeles with the hint of moisture. Not the cool mornings of the Mojave, with dryness, yes a delicate moistness that will evaporate in the next 20 minutes. This is a coolness, that you know will get cooler as the winter season progresses. The warmth comes from midday sun, that if I am lucky will warm the trees enough for their scent - their vanilla, cedar, spice aroma - to release.
On those first hot days in Fox Run, when I took Pebbles for walks, deep in the forest I would smell it. I presses my face against the bark to try to get a stronger whiff of the intoxicating smell, but it was no stronger. Elusive, yet surrounded.
Cool mornings here mean, fleece lined sweat shirts, flannel pants and slippers. Coffee - a latte - which I have learned to froth at 7000 feet. It's no small feat to get perfectly foamed foam here. Cool mornings mean letting the dogs out. Cool mornings mean the herd of deer relaxing in the back yard. Cool mornings are a moment for reflection before starting the day.
Comments