ベス・ロッデンのインスタグラム(bethrodden) - 2月13日 05時09分

Undoubtedly you’re being inundated with pictures of everything snow. Powder, skiing, snowboarding, snowmen, snow piles, it’s all so white and fluffy and beautiful. It’s been years that I’ve experienced a “normal” Sierra winter due to the droughts. I’m not a snow sports athlete but I feel lucky to be able to see Yosemite and the Sierras in their natural state, blanketed by white. I love how it demands a slower pace and lets nature catch its breath before the hustle and bustle of spring and summer arrive.
What I can’t show in an Instagram photo are the visceral memories that living in winter brings back. The diesel smell from the plows, backhoes and rotaries required to make the roads drivable. The completely wrecked feeling in my body, like I've been hit by one of those backhoes from shoveling feet upon feet of snow. The fatigue. The taste of hot lemon, ginger and honey tea. The darkness. Cooking by headlamp in our tiny apartment when the utilities go out, again. But the memory that is the strongest, is that sense of calm elation, when you finally make it out of the house, go into the woods and it’s so darn quiet. You feel like you are the only one on earth. The snow has that magic muffle, to make you feel wonderfully alone. I'm sure the skiers, snowboarders, snowshoers, and people that don't live in the drought stricken west experience this all the time. But for me, it's been a wonderfully exhausting reminder of what winter is about. #ineedamassage

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