In springtime, the ski resort closes and most everyone leaves. The snow begins to melt and patches of bulbs begin springing up out of the semi-frozen muddy ground. The marmots begin to pop up out of their holes from hibernation. The world is quiet of humans and yet busy with animals and plant life anew. Most of the spring we could go weeks without seeing another human. Occasionally we would see someone cross country skiing. Most days there was no one there. Any social life had to happen down in the valley because it was a lot of work to get up or down from the cabin. First, lower down by the parking lot we’d drive our jeep until we would get to the big snowdrifts. Then we’d hop on the snowcat, driving through mud and snow and then sometimes the snowmobile as well. Depending on how the drifts of snow were melting and how steep the hillsides were. It would change daily depending on the storms or amount of sunshine. Life was isolated and beautiful.
One day my husband Leland had just gotten out of bed and was changing. The sun was just breaking into daylight. He decided to open the blinds, while still naked. As he pulled the string to open the blinds, on the trail near the house a few yards away were a couple of avid hikers, out for their morning walk. They saw the flash of the blinds opening. They looked, only to discover my naked husband. I think they saw a little more nature than they were expecting to see that morning. He immediately ducked below the window sill, reached up and grasped the cord, pulling the blinds shut.