The weather here in Colorado is not to be depended on. At all. All last week the inhabitants of the Little White House were seen overtaking the park and quite astounding everyone with their tennis and basketball skills (or lack thereof, perhaps?), and then yesterday Bex and I woke up to a blanket of snow and had to dig our car out before heading to work at a most ungodly hour of the morning. Today is perfectly sunny and nice again. (Rissa is insisting that it is “not nice…it’s cold!” I still hold that it is “perfectly sunny and nice again…but still cold.”)
We do tend to make good use of the beautiful weather, though. Last week we were lazing around the house on a gorgeous day and decided that something needed to change. We couldn’t let the day go to waste! A picnic in the mountains was proposed and accepted, and the little house was soon a flurry of activity. I began the makings of a picnic meal and soon realized we had no picnic basket. I hollered from the kitchen stating the same and Rissa soon came running in with her sewing basket. Perfect! Abby and Bex took the top down on Bex’s red convertible. We snatched water bottles, jackets, books, sunglasses, food, tablecloth, and any other accoutrements we felt might be necessary, and headed down the road…or rather, up the the road, as we were headed for the mountains. It was a perfect drive that afternoon, and we found ourselves at a beautiful park in the mountains by a river. Our hair was a little worse for wear, but the park was empty and there was no one but ourselves to see us. We set up our picnic table and sat down to a lunch which quickly disappeared without much ado.
After lunch we all went our separate ways and explored the park. I love walking alone up there…so peaceful and quiet. I reflected on many things, stood on a bridge overlooking the river and was mesmerized by the swirls and eddies, and thanked God for such a beautiful creation. I could not help but sing right then–
“When through the woods, and forest glades I wander,
And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees.
When I look down, from lofty mountain grandeur
And see the brook, and feel the gentle breeze.
Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee
How great Thou art, how great Thou art…”
I came back from my jaunt to find Rissa perched on a rock overlooking the river, Abby was squealing as she poked her toes in the water and found it to be snow run-off (very cold!), and Bex was spread out smack dab in the middle of a great expanse of grass with her book. The next hour, or so, was spent in much the same activities. (I might add that Abby’s squealing did not necessarily continue for the next hour.)
Today is another beautiful day, the snow has all melted, and I think a walk downtown might be in order before heading to work tonight.