April of 2005

(an email)

     As I type this letter, I can see out the third floor window into my front yard.  they sky is mottled shades of gray and there is snow blowing past the house like a crazy swarm of locusts, ambivalent about the direction it should take.  The snowdrifts are sculpted so that our very own snow dunes surround us.  The roofs, decks, rails and porch steps have little snow on them due to the voracious winds and only the down wind sides of the trees are laden with snow.  Drifts are almost up to the sills of the basement, outside the boys' bedrooms.  The poor, old, dog has to have his doggie door closed, since snow is seeping into the great room, defying the magnets that hold the flap closed.  A foot of snow has permeated the screen on the front door.  Drips of melting snow are frozen to the window in the icy winds.  Even David's little 4WD truck has to concede, unable to make it back up the driveway after taking Amy to work this morning.  The power outages have spared us, choosing rather to affect the city fold, nearly 11,000 strong.  I guess they anticipated the typical high desert weather up here in the mountains, at nearly 9000 feet above sea level.  The funny thing is that yesterday virtually all of the snow had ;melted.  Down at the Safeway, where Amy works at 8000 feet, there was none to be seen.  People were outside in shorts, no less!

     Day three of the storm has seen the snow slow to a lazy stop, as if spent by the effort of blanketing our mountain.  It has taken us the whole day simply to move enough snow off our driveway to release the van from its snowy stocks.  The boys spent the afternoon jumping off the second floor deck into the drifts that gathered in the corner by the garage.  The sun kissed David's face a little too vigorously and after six hours of shoveling, he looks as if he's been to the beach in California in late August.

     Less than one week after the storm, and we have taken a day trip to the park with the kids.  We played ball on the grass and chased each other around, enjoying the sunshine and bright blue sky.  The only evidence of snow is puddles of mud here and there, and bits of white around the rocks.  The view from upstairs shows the mountains remaining steadfast, in spite of the storm.  Their appearance is unique every time I see them.  Though they remain the same, they are dressed differently as God paints sunshine on them daily.  No matter what weather brings change to us, the mountains hold on, reaching up to God with faithful praise for all He has done and is doing.

     Such is Spring in the Colorado high desert in April.