Snow Blind

was probably one of the coldest winters I can remember, and the amount of snow that fell on our little lake community was amazing. My roommate, another female about my age, and myself had moved up to Vallecito in the spring of the preceding year. Spring through Autumn at Vallecito, CO are beautiful, but the winters can be brutal. This one in particular still stands out in my mind.

I chose this particular photo, and the following photos, because it depicts a time for me that reminds me of the current situation with the Coronavirus, in the sense that whether it is a snow storm or a virus, a lot of things can keep you isolated and at home. A lot of different things can close down businesses, including snow, or worse yet, earthquakes and hurricanes, to name a few.

It was the winter of 2017 when I took the above picture from our deck. As you can see, the snow was stacking up nicely on the rails that surrounded the deck, and our neighbor's house, which stood empty in the winter, was covered with snow. The unfortunate thing for us was that we had a rather steep hill to come up to get to our place, and it was difficult enough for the thirty-seven-year-old Plymouth to make the hill when the roads were clear, let alone when they were snow packed and icy. Even if I could have made it to the top of the hill, there was no place for me to park once I got up there.

This was our downstairs neighbor's vehicle, covered with snow, and was the only vehicle able to make it up and down the hill without sliding back down. I don't know how we would have made it through the winter without their kindness and help. They took us to the store, took us to town, to the bank, and wherever else we needed to go. In the meantime, our vehicle was stuck in a snowbank behind the restaurant across the street. It had been there for a few weeks, and we went over daily to try and shovel it out a bit more, but it would not budge and one entire side was frozen to the snowbank. After almost a month, and a few warmer days, we were over shoveling the snow away from the side that had been frozen to a snow bank earlier. It was hard work, and we had made little progress when a pickup truck pulled in behind our car. A middle-aged man stepped out and offered to pull us out with his truck. He hooked a chain to our very sturdy bumper, and after a few tries managed to get us away from the snow bank and back out onto the street. Of course, my car stalled and died immediately, but he sat in his truck and waited until we were able to get back out on the road and home. We passed him on the side of the road a little later, and asked him what we owed him for his help, and he said we owed him nothing, that he was glad to do it. There are still some very decent people in the world.

These pictures inspire me and remind me how brutal nature can be. I think about that winter often, about shoveling the car each day, sliding down the middle of the road with our neighbors to get food or a pack of smokes, but mostly being stuck inside the house for a good deal of time. I think about this now more than ever since the COVID-19 pandemic and remind myself when I get bored or upset that I was able to manage my time and days when I lived at the lake, so I can do it now. I learned a lot that winter, and I wouldn't trade the experience for anything. I learned patience, tried to learn photography but did not fare too well in that department, played a lot of card games and learned how to get along with my roommate better.

I remember one day in particular when we walked down to the mailbox, which was across the highway, or at least tried to walk down to the mailbox. My roommate is shorter and sturdier than I am, so she was the one who had to literally crawl through a snowbank that was almost as tall as she was, in order to get to the street. Then, she had to carefully cross a very icy road to get to the mailboxes, and then crawl back up the same path she made going down. It took us almost an hour to get the mail that day.

Vallecito Lake is just beyond the trees, and below the picnic tables. It was frozen in most areas, but after the storm it was frozen all the way across. In the spring, after the snow melts off and the brooks begin to flow into the lake, there is a path around the lake that we would walk each day, appreciating the beauty of the lake and surrounding area, and thinking about how lucky we were to live in such a beautiful spot that others only get to visit.

The important thing to remember in all circumstances is that no human condition is permanent, even though it felt like those winter days and long winter nights would last forever, they didn't, and in the spring we had all the beauty to look forward to.

This is a picture I took from my upstairs window the following spring, or a bear cub wandering around downstairs and looking for it's mother. There were three of them at first, and then two of them took off into the trees. I found all the interesting animals and sights well worth the winters until about three years after we moved there, and then the idea of one more winter stuck behind the restaurant by the lake, and not having access to any reasonably priced groceries, it became apparent we had to move. It was with great sadness I did so, but it was only because my roommate and myself are getting up in years and couldn't manage one more year at the lake.