Having grown up in Southern California, snow is something you drive to when desired, not a regular life occurrence. Well, this year for the holidays I voyaged to snow. I stayed in a house on a lake in a National Forest. It was beautiful, quiet … and cold.
I quickly learned the benefits of wearing a scarf over my nose and mouth, and the comfort it can bring. It was my desire to record for posterity how cold I was that led to a snowy adventure.
This picture was taken at the beginning of my walk that went along the shoreline of a frozen lake, zigging and zagging, and culminated in a snowball fight. Okay, the snowball fight wasn’t really effective because the snow was pure powder and didn’t clump, but it was so much fun and a great workout.
Hours later, when I decided to go on another walk, I realized my phone wasn’t in my pocket. I had no cell phone coverage, so my phone was basically just a camera throughout my trip. I didn’t remember taking it out of my pocket, but my mind is a sieve, so that really didn’t mean anything.
After a cursory search of the house, I had an eerie feeling that the phone might have fallen out of my pocket during the morning walk. I went down and did a cursory look around the last place I remembered seeing it, but no luck. Later in the afternoon I dragged another soul out to help me find it. Still no luck.
I tore the house apart (with help). That sinking feeling that my phone was somewhere out in the snow became very strong. I figured out how to have a new phone delivered to me the day I got back, but I didn’t pull the trigger. I also figured out how to contact my ride home from the airport (thanks, Kurt!). With all that in place, I had to wait until dawn.
At full light, it was a balmy 6 degrees outside (-14 C). This is the scene of all the snow to search – all the way up to the far tree line.
At least our footprints were visible and reduced the territory considerably.
I raked all the snow in the snow ball fight arena – figuring that was the most likely spot. No dice. I moved on, completely disheartened, raking here and there.
I’d gotten half way down the shoreline when I heard the most beautiful words ever: “I found it!” A wonderful woman showed me where she had spotted a small hole in the snow and dug down. There it was. I ran through calf high snow and hugged her!
Doing my victory dance, I discovered a hidden rock and ended up unceremoniously on my butt. So what did I do when I found myself sitting in a field of snow? I made a snow angel, of course!
So many wonderful things happened this trip, but the joy of finding my missing phone is definitely up there. Has anyone had a misstep that lead to a cherished memory? or When was the last time you made a snow angel?