I think the most striking thing about this area - our new home - is the scale of the beauty. It is grand. Magnificent. Wild and untamed. And I keep thinking of the pioneers coming to the eastern side of the High Sierras and wondering what went through their minds when they saw the next stage of their journey. Did they watch storms blow down the sides of the mountains like I did today?
It was a little cloudy this morning over the Sierras.
And then a mist of snow began drifting down.
The clouds started coming in faster then.
And in another five minutes, more of the mountain was invisible behind its shroud.
But it was still sunny here in the valley.
There were flakes of snow blowing through the neighborhood, and it was cold, but the friendly warm sun stayed out, only briefly blocked by cloud cover.
It was darker and darker over the mountains, and the boys drove into it on their way to swim practice (at the lovely indoor facility).
Over on the other side of the valley, there were incredible cloud formations.
And directly overhead, bright blue skies.
The clouds retreated back to the top of the mountains by evening.
And the moon came out.