A Little Vacation 4: Looking For Snow

It was chilly and blustery. Clouds were large but not constant, so some sun made it through large dark swaths of sky, occasionally highlighting just what I wanted to shoot. Yep, despite the unkind weather, I was out early with the camera for a while. I did wait until my friend returned from a walk and announced some snow had fallen. OK thanks bye.

I immediately saw she was correct. There were melted drops on the sidewalk leading to the parking area. Some had landed on ivy next to a small building, and it was the same kind as I’d seen yesterday by Oak Creek. Here it was thicker, but just as much purple running through the leaves, except the few new ones which were bright green. It demanded my camera.

I’d been seeing a beautiful gazebo on the property and headed that way. As described, it did look out over the creek below but no creek photos were possible due to intense brush in between. Hear it, can’t shoot it.

Fine. Be that way. Harrumph! I decided to shoot around the outside of the house and then down the road towards the entrance. The grape vines were gnarly, each one of the several dozen along the fence with several wonderful angles to shoot. As I progressed, a windmill appeared just past the curve over the treetops, just hidden from view from the house or while within a car, but subtly pointing out the small red barn now emerging into view beneath it. Or maybe the red barn drew the eye to the windmill.

It was finally time to scout out the creek access on the other side of our abode. A long series of stairs were the only access point through the electric fence. If only I could actually locate it. There was private property in the way, or so I assumed since I didn’t find access and that’s the only place I didn’t scout. But my restrictions in wandering led me instead to some very tall grass clumps with huge white plumes at their tops, waving in the wind.  Ten minutes or so with them offered me different angles, backdrops varying between red rocks, charcoal clouds and blue sky, and just once getting them actually front lit by a brief peek of sun.

But it was time to come in, warm up, and help plan the day. The forecast had foretold snow starting later (some signals were reaching the smart phones and GPS and bits of news were getting through) with 1/3 to 5” possible. After breakfast, lunch was packed and we decided to hit Jerome, overpriced tourist town extraordinaire. Even though Steve’s eyes lit up at the prospect, he elected to stay at the house, enjoy some alone time, and give his back a much needed rest from being on the road.

With GPS available again, it should be easy to get there, right? Well…. The beginning and end were fine. The middle, going through Cottonwood with lots of roundabouts and fewer signs became a challenge. But eventually our ears were popping with the climb up to Jerome’s perch. We rewarded ourselves for our arrival by parking at an overlook and eating lunch, enjoying the ever changing views of clouds making the light and colors dance over Sedona, across the wide valley. Red rocks emerged and then hid behind rain or snow in mesmerizing patterns. One particular cloud was dumping snow in a broadening pattern as it fell, making inverted “V” patterns within its load. Suddenly it ran out of its load and the entire separated  “V” slowly fell, intact till landing.

By then lunch was over, a few pictures had been shot, and we’d avoided being ticketed by the local cop solely because we stayed in the car - though we did get a dirty look. It was plainly marked as for-fee parking. Now, though, SHOPPING TIME!

I shouldn’t have been surprised by how many of the shops were closed. One restaurant had boxes of merchandise stacked on the booth tops and in the seats as well as lining the floor. The store with the big “Pottery” sign turned out to be a pottery workshop, presumably for local artists, but a sign notified us they had relocated. Somewhere. Interesting pots lined window shelves abandoned by their makers, and were the only pots really worth shelling out for, in my opinion. A few scattered ones in other shops here and there came close. Almost. Nothing worth either the price or finding shelf space at home for.

There were other temptations. One store had highly colorful Zuni wire baskets. While they drew the eye and customers inside, their lack of any hint of pueblo identity in patterns or coloring, combined with their price tags, stayed my hand. I did manage to fall in love with some small clay statues made not by painting the outside of a form but by building them with colored bits of clay in elaborate patterns. The clerk explained that if I broke one - warning: don’t do that! - I would see the the colors went straight through the pieces. An elaborately decorated rattlesnake coiled with head raised ready to strike was very tempting. It’s colors all matched my bedroom decor, including its purple face. I’m sure if I had a spare $15 hundred to toss away I would have found the exact right space for it.

Sigh.

My granddaughter isn’t getting even one of the clay elephants made like that, either. One that would fit in my palm carried a price tag of $200. Even if I felt like spending that much, she hasn't thanked me yet for the last present I sent her, even to acknowledge it had arrived.

There was one purchase, a tee shirt. It’s now carefully folded away in my carry-on. While in the fudge shop I picked up a tiny bag of chocolate covered toffee pieces, and had a taste in the car while Mr. Fishing Buddy slowly sipped a chocolate malt. My friend was down the street checking a couple other stores out, arriving back at the car in time to save her husband from having to finish the last half of the malt. (He’s diabetic. It was a true rescue, though his insulin pump was his backup plan if she took too long down the street.)

Once back at the Air B&B, and after going out shooting a plum tree that was suddenly in full bloom, my friend showed me where to access the stairs leading to Oak Creek. I’d thought when she described it that the electric fence stopped and started again on either side. Nope. It droops enough that an agile adult can (theoretically) step over the low spot. But not to the same level on the other side, because that’s down a step. I decided not to risk it, particularly since it would be even more of a challenge with a very high step over it again after the climb back up with a very low likelihood of my missing the wire.

I finally managed to get my laptop connected to the now-working house wi-fi. I could have started posting these, but I decided to wait till returning home again and dump them on everybody a day at a time. No need to let anybody think the house is totally empty that whole time, even though it (theoretically) isn’t, with Rich staying there and taking care of the dog. Still, with the driveway empty, people will draw their own conclusions.

Steve and I try not to imagine how that could go wrong, with Adam back in the picture passing the house with threatening looks and doing some night prowling in the yard after Rich actually spoke to Amanda (Gasp!) once for two minutes, and his latest “guest” ripping him off of his last $50, after yet another one stole his phone and denies doing it to this day. She had the gall to come back that evening and demand access to the house to get the charging cord. She must have found one elsewhere. Yet another friend of his - this time seemingly a real one - asked him to describe the stolen phone. The thief brings it over to his garage periodically to charge it, and this guy has seen it. It’s a weird brand so both guys are sure it’s the right one. He promised Rich that next time she came over to charge it, the phone would be in Rich’s hands when she came back to claim it, along with its charger. Meanwhile there’s supposed to be a few minor repairs getting done inside the house, some pooper scooping in the yard, the recycling going out on schedule, a small plumbing leak which is keeping the second toilet from being used needing to be fixed, etc., etc.

So instead of posting these accounts now that I could, I checked the weather. We’re are supposed to get maybe 1/4” of wet. Sedona, however, likely actually will get/has gotten some actual snow. It might be nice to head there for our last full day up here and do some shooting, but my friend needs to return to Jerome to return a sweater than is, as it turns out, several sizes too large for her slender frame. It would likely easily fit me but a certain set of canine claws would have it ruined in her first lap sit.

We discussed  hitting Prescott. Steve is interested in going and seeing the huge old tree near Yarnell that the Granite Mountain Hotshots saved from fire a couple years before they themselves were killed in a forest fire. What makes the tree interesting is they took a photo of the group after saving it, under, around, and up in the tree. The photo is a part of their memorial, and features prominently in the movie made about them which we’ve seen twice. If you can handle tears, watch “Only The Brave” sometime. Anyway, I looked up how to get there and discussion ended abruptly when directions got to the part about parking 4 miles from the tree for a fairly rugged hike.

Once everybody’s up and thinking, we’ll figure out what’s on the agenda. Since we go through Cottonwood to get to Jerome, my friend was thinking about some museums there.

I wonder if they welcome cameras.