The Lost Sierra

The Lost Sierra...means something entirely different to me now. We lost one million acres of conifers and pines. We lost the music...singing birds, wind in the needles. We lost the incredible production of oxygen that we were blessed with year-around from that magnificent forest. We lost the experience of communing with contented wildlife. If we stay inside the green zone that holds the little village of Chester, California we can almost forget what it is that we lost but, as soon as we dare to wander from the village limits we are overwhelmed with The Lost Sierra.

Four Weeks Without Sunshine

Unheard of, even in the mountains of California. I didn't realize how this would affect me... SAD. We drove to SoCal in mid-December. It was sunny when we arrived. We rode our bicycles up and down the south slope of the Verdugo Mtn. neighborhoods until we were soaked with sweat and upon return to grandma's secluded pool we stripped down and enjoyed 58 degree 'plongettes' followed by full-body basking under the 70 degree California sun. The good life. A couple of days before Christmas, life got cloudy (and Lisa slipped off a curb in Glendale spraining both ankles). Rainy and gloomy skies took over on Thursday, obscuring what should have been the beautiful holiday season sunsets that we had experienced during previous years at grandmother's house. Two weeks of SoCal grey encouraged us to return to the north and make sure all was well at our Plumas County mountain cabin. The year had started with a couple foot of accumulated snow. I grabbed a shovel and got to work....after planting Lisa in our woodstove-warmed living room. Ankle brace bound, she was not to leave the house for at least two weeks. It snowed and rained and snowed non-stop for the next week. Then Thursday the sun almost broke through. It only rained a fraction of an inch that day. Friday saw the return of the moisture monster. And it didn't stop until the next Wednesday.