At first I was cranky at being woken up early. Andy’s chili last night had been hotter than a steel rod in full sun, and all night, my gut had turned as if the rod had found its final resting place in my intestines.
But when I looked out the window with Siri, it was hard not to smile. Our little town had been transformed into a snowy hamlet over night. Snow dripped from the aspens still full with the green leaves of summer. The tips of the mountains had vanished, and all that remained were the bands of yellowed aspens glowing like a fire beneath the heavy mist.
And for now, they were the only thing glowing. The power had gone out as it often does in Telluride when a storm blows in quickly. The house was dark, as dark as I imagine miner’s cabins were when they first moved here in search of gold. I lit a candle to find my way to the shower, frustrated that I wouldn’t be able to use my computer all day. Power outages in Telluride like to stick around all day. Sometimes, all week.
Siri meanwhile rushed downstairs to dig out her snowpants and boots. “Can I go outside? Can we go ice skating later? Please, please, PLEASE?!”
I looked at her and once again, threw off my bad mood. Winter had arrived, at least for today. How could we not celebrate? After all, all of us here choose to live at close to 9000 feet. Might as well enjoy it. But ice skating? Siri will have to hold off a few more weeks.
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