Weather report: snow and bright colors

Oct. 14 is late for fall's first measurable snowfall. Awoke this morning to the falling of nickel-sized flakes, with only a dusting of white amongst the yellow leaves and still-green grass. The TV weather people often call for snow "on the grassy areas." I know what they mean, that it will only accumulate on the grassy areas. Still, it makes it sound as if snow has the ability to sidestep streets and sidewalks for my lawn. I wish it did, really, as snow is a bonus for growing things but must be shoveled (per city ordinance) when it clogs the sidewalks.

We've had early snows. On the final day of summer six years ago, we drove through a blizzard to Salt Lake City for a book festival. The Wyoming Department of Transportation closed I-80 behind us. Near Rawlins, we passed a group of Harley riders who failed to watch the Weather Channel that morning. It was balmy in SLC. On Sunday, as we headed home, we had to wait for WYDOT to open I-80 at Evanston. The town was clogged with semis, waiting with us. When we got home to Cheyenne, much of the 16 inches of snow had already melted.

In September 1995, it snowed while we moved into our new house. We've moved three times in the snow, a few others on days of bone-chilling winds. If we could only harness those winds to do man's bidding. If only one could toss a couch into the air and have the winds bear it to one's new home. A pipe dream, I know.

During our morning walk yesterday, my wife and I noticed the vibrant colors of the trees. It was cloudy, too, the skies charging up for a day of rain (1.2 inches in my rain gauge). The colors seemed more vivid on a cloudy day than on sunny days last weekend. Is that true, or just a delusion? Our fall colors in the High Plains tend toward browns and yellows. Those yellows are sometimes referred to as "gold." We do have a few red maples in the neighborhood. There are hedges and bushes that turn a bright red.

I've seen New England in the fall. Those are some wild colors. I stayed with friends outside Putney, Vermont, one late September weekend. I awoke to sun, looked out the window, and the reds and oranges and golds about knocked my eyeballs out. I'd arrived the night before so the colors were a revelation.

We have nothing similar. But on a cloudy Wyoming weekend, as the days move deeper into fall in the physical world (and in my own life) the view was just as spectacular.