It’s the rainy season in the California mountains. We awoke to a pouring rain yesterday morning. It felt so comfortable to lie beneath the thick quilts and listen to the drumbeat of rain showers on the roof. I had to run between rain drops between the tiny little cabin and the house. But the coffee–and Melinda–was in the house.
I would like to share with you what happened next. Because it was magical. Because it was special. Because it was precious and spiritual and inspirational.
But that’s all the sentences I can share about the next few hours we spent together. Melinda shared the gift of her spiritual insights and understanding…and helped me so much. Together we spent time weaving through words and feelings and hopes and desires and humanity and divinity.
At times in our friendship, I have helped her in perhaps the same way. This time it was her turn.
Isn’t it wonderful and strange how friendships shift and change, so that each friend can give at different times and in different ways?
The previous night we took the dogs to the river in her blue truck. We walked for about forty minutes along the winding river which was swollen from melting mountain snow run-off. The river flows alongside the road which runs toward Yosemite. (We thought about driving to Yosemite, but the morning’s snowfall and our intense conversation changed our plans.)
After our walk, we drove to a restaurant called “The Bug” and ate a most delicious dinner. It is situated in a youth hostel where many folks stay before hiking up near Yosemite. We ordered chicken and salmon with sides of rice and summer squash and salad and bread. The dogs slumbered in the back of the truck as we dined.
In the morning we started a small cozy fire in the fireplace. At times the snow flew thick and wild outside the window. We wondered if we would ever get down from the mountain, should the snow build up too much. We pondered driving to Merced to stay in a motel that night in order to make my train.
However, just as we decided we might, the snow abruptly ceased.
Springtime returned to the mountaintop. The dogs started prancing around the house. Time for another walk!
I haven’t told you of any of the challenges of mountaintop living, have I? There are ticks, rattlesnakes, scorpions, Black Widow spiders, and lots of dog hair. Melinda lives “off the grid” and supplies electricity to her house through solar panels. There is a lot of work to maintaining this mountain paradise. There are gardens to grow, houses to maintain, solar panels to repair and goats to feed.
By the time you read this bog, I will be heading north and east toward Tahoe City. Who knows if it will be possible to write another blog from there? I hope so, but you never know…
Thank you, Melinda, for your wonderful hospitality and gift of your being. It has been a pleasure to be together once again.