Day 81 - Snowing on a New Year's eve

Hello to all,
    Yesterday after Sunday morning church I drove to the Oregon coast. The day was sunny, blue clear skies. The closer we got to the ocean the warmer it got. We decided to hike around Coffenbury Lake at Fort Stevens State park.  The parking lot, almost empty looked out on the sun-lit, shining lake. An occasional fish jumped, a bird or two swam lazily around, trailing swirls in the water.
     We set out, hiking around flooded spots on the trail. The deep woods shadowed the trail, cushioned with layers of pine needles so we strode noiselessly through the forest.  Surprisingly many trees were down across the trail, testimony to a recent windstorms havoc. About a 1/2 mile down the trail I could see sun on the tops of the trees on the side of the lake we were on.  Looking up through the forest to the hill I had a sudden thought, "Maybe I can see the ocean from the top of that hill!" 
   Off I went climbing the hill through the thigh-high undergrowth. I pressed through, ignoring the steep climb and going up and up reaching for the top. Finally I made it and looked out across the hill. "Nuts!" It was still too far away to see the waves. We continued on, soft footsteps in a world of winter beauty. The lake, still shimmering, silver ripples of nature's beauty quietly sitting in the sun a companion to the hike. 
    We kept on, quickening the pace after the climb up a long hill and the gradual descent. A couple with their dogs walked past us with the warning, "You can't get around, it's too flooded."  We kept on, thinking perhaps their attachment to their expensive shoes might have tempered their enthusiasm to brave the water. Finally we rounded the end of the lake and discovered the flood, where two lakes joined they had become one, the trail burried beneath.
   "We'll have to go back," I told my grandson, it's too deep. We decided to take a side trail that wound through the deep woods to an access trail. Here, no sounds entered except the chirp of a bird or two.  We were alone in the sun, the forest, and the trail. Headed away from the Lake we hiked for a long while, sure that around the next bend we would see the road to Iredale.  A trail, small, almost like a deer trail wound off to the left. We looked at each other, "Let's go!" For about a mile we hiked, often flooded out, we've brave through the brush picking our footsteps on drier ground. Hoof prints of horses joined our own footprints and we wound deeper into the uncharted woods. Ahead, I could hear the surf, pounding softly. The sky, still blue with golden sun called to us, "Over here."
    Intent, we continued until up ahead we saw dunes, excitedly we climbed and saw the ocean, beautiful, serene, a windless unseasonably warm day to treasure. We beach-combed for a while, enjoying the freshness of the salt-sea air, the relaxing sound of the waves and the beauty of nature untarnished.
   The sun began setting with the red-hued tones and I cautioned my young companion that we'd better try to hike back to the lake. We set out on the bike trail hiking a good pace. Up and down a few gentle hills, so dear to us with many days of memories past made over years times.
   The Lake, finally reached still waited with the darker shades of night upon his mirrored surface. We munched, crisp, sun-kissed golden delicious apples and tried to start a fire in an old rock fireplace.  Finally, worn from the 5 plus mile hike we decided to call it a day and head home.  It had been truly the end of a wonderful afternoon.                
     Today, New Year's Eve afternoon, I look out on a white winter snowstorm. It's been snowing for several hours and it shows no signs of stopping. I'm at a daughter's home, tucked into a warm couch, computer on my lap. I live up a hill or two and part of me whispers, "You know you'll be walking up the hill to your house today...."  But the part of me that wants to be with family remains.  
    And so, New Year's Eve plans have changed, the blanket of white creating a schedule born on doing whats safe.
    At home, there is another room I'm anxious to deep-clean.  All the kitchen cupboards scrubbed and re-organized I'm on to the next project. But it can wait. I will set a spell and enjoy my day off and wait for the year 2012 to wind slowly down. 

   To all of you saying goodbye to your year, best regards. May the new year hold blessings for you all.