he snow continued to fall throughout the night and, by morning, had made enough of a threat to us that we decided to leave immediately rather than have breakfast, relax, and enjoy the winter surprise.

We quickly gathered our belongings and loaded up the cars which were idling to build up a little warmth inside. Although the rate at which the snow was falling was alarming enough considering the steep and uneven drive way that would take us down the hillside and onto the highway, I was slightly reticent to leave knowing that this would be the last time I’d be at the cabin until spring and I was already annoyed enough at having not had the time to go up to it throughout the summer as I had planned. Once a month was my original goal and, sadly, we fell far short of it.

There’s always next year, I tell myself as I ease the car down through the ice. I feel oddly claustrophobic with the windshield bordered by snow, knowing that the entire car is encased in a frosty coccoon several inches deep.

She’s nervous as I tear along the highway at what I consider a snow-friendly pace of 40 miles per hour or so. It doesn’t take long before we decend enough so that the snow turns to rain.

As we pass through Granite Falls, people stare at my iced car. There’s no real emotion on their faces. It’s just a premonition of their white winter to come. Down in the valley, in the city, we don’t get snow like they get up in the mountains.

Most of the snow is gone by the time we hit the freeway heading south.