“I think we are bound to, and by, nature. We may want to deny this connection and try to believe we control the external world, but every time there’s a snowstorm or drought, we know our fate is tied to the world around us.” 

Alice Hoffman

View from Gondola going up Bald Mountain

Winter is my favorite season. Snow is my favorite precipitation. Blue skies, powdered snow—that was our mantra here in the Sun Valley area of Idaho. Even the words conjure up snow flying from our skis, across our faces, and the illusion of soaring through ice crystals. “No friends on powder days” seconded the first, meaning don’t be late to a meeting spot. We won’t wait. If you’re a skier, read my story “The Perfect Day” in IDAHO magazine. If you’re not a skier, keep reading about snow in our high desert paradise.

Climate change will affect all of us, but perhaps most in areas where snow is important to the economics, production, and enjoyment of winter life. Our snow seasons have grown shorter and often with less snow than we hope for, wish for, and
depend upon. This year has been the exception after several years of less than optimum cold and snowy precipitation. Snow began to fall in November and continued through December. It stopped for a while and our sunny days returned, somewhat to the relief of all. Moderation in all things . . .. More snow in January and not much at all in February, so far.

Blue begins most days, and then clouds roll in. Often, they roll out again without leaving a calling card. Evening sunsets surprise in an array of pinks, lavenders, oranges, and burgundies. Red sky at night is usually a skiers’ delight (as well as sailors’), as it foretells a sparkling next day. We have about three feet of snow all around our house up a canyon near Hailey, Idaho. All the surrounding mountains have been covered in white since early December. Like water scenes, shades of color and shadows morph hourly, sometimes blue, sometimes gray, sometimes pink.

Because we live in a high desert, most of the hills surrounding us have no trees except on the north faces. Sagebrush covers all the south faces and this year, snow has blanketed the brush. Our temperatures have sunk to below zero for days and nights at a time. The colds have hovered in the single digits and teens for weeks at a time. Many days, it is too cold to shovel walks, even if we could lift filled shovels. Never mind, books to read line shelves in our home.

In late February, I have yet to hear a red-winged blackbird or see a robin. Magpies in their formal tuxedos with stripes of blue are ubiquitous of course. Ducks–Barrow’s Goldeneyes, mallards, coots, and mergansers–fill local ponds, disappearing when spring peeks around the corner.

My husband Gerry and I drove up several canyons and around our own canyon to get photographs of snow. They tell a story of cold air, hoar frost, and blue shadows. Even so, the pictures still don’t quite capture the joy I feel when I stand outside and absorb the colors of white, the silvery sheen, the carpets of sparkles, and the connection I feel to this winter wonderland.

Book News:

Get Lit! Festival in Spokane, Washington: I will be on a panel of Women of the West on Thursday, April 20, from 11:00 to 12:00. Please come if you are in town.

Coeur d’Alene Public Library, on April 20 in the afternoon from 5:00 to 6:00 pm. I will present a program about MINERS’ MOON, set in the Silver Valley and in the main mine.

All photos by Gerry Morrison