Shelter from the Storm

(And it wasn’t even that big of a storm! But sometimes, it’s nice to have a place to spend the night after a long day of work when there have been chain controls and odds are good that even if the freeway is finally clear, that the long hill that leads from the freeway down to my house will still have snow on it and possibly ice. I’ve seen what that hill can do to cars in inclement weather. Not so fun for anyone. Except possibly for autobody shop owners.)

I’m grateful that there was a room available at Mercy Center tonight (the retreat center where I do most of my massage work), that I didn’t have to drive home in the dark on icy roads after finishing my last massage, that I am able to stay here.

I’m grateful that there was snow today, that a good amount came down in the mountains, since our storms so far have been light this winter, and the snowpack which provides much of our water is below average (whatever that is anymore).

I’m grateful for all kinds of shelter, especially for people who are shelter for me: friends and neighbors, too.

This storm wasn’t in my plans for this weekend, though.

I was going to start this wonderful blog post last night,  but I got distracted when I checked the weather forecast and realized that a genuine storm was coming. So instead of writing, I finished my son’s laundry since he is heading back to college soon. Then I packed an overnight bag for myself and grabbed my sleeping bag out of the shed so that I could hopefully stay somewhere below the snow line if the storm materialized like they were predicting.

(It did)

I love the snow when I can stay home and the power doesn’t go out. I do not love it so much when I have a child who needs to be at the airport in Sacramento the day after the storm.

Mostly? I am grateful that I have a place to stay tonight. I hope to do a “leave no trace” kind of overnight stay, so I do not add extra work for the Mercy Center housekeepers who are also my friends. I have my sleeping bag and I brought my own towels.  I will be invisible, like a bunny who blends in and leaves no trace.