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Winter in the Mountains of Arizona

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When I tell people I live in Arizona; they automatically think that I live in a hot climate; as in the sweltering, sprawl of our capital, Phoenix. But here in the White Mountains, at an elevation of, 7,000 feet, we have four beautiful seasons. The vivid crimsons, oranges, reds, yellows and bronze colors of autumn, can be seen high on Greens Peak and elsewhere, in these wild, rugged mountains.

Located near a deep canyon full of 70-feet tall, ancient pines, and black walnut trees, my cozy cabin is surrounded by evergreens; junipers, cedars and pine. Sweet, aromatic wisps of cedar smoke from the chimney of my woodstove, fill the crisp air with an inviting, welcoming smell.

Our first snowfall of the year arrived about a week ago. Large, white flakes of snow descended silently from the sky, cloaking the countryside in a mystical white shroud. A still silence befell the evergreen woods and a peaceful calm filled the air, as icy whiteness covered the ground with pristine newness. Nothing stirred as the snow showered down on the earth. It was as if time had stopped and this part of the world was in a land that time had forgotten.

By morning we had a four-inch blanket of virgin snow. The early, yellow sunshine shone on the bright sparkling carpet of white; reflecting trillions of diamond-like crystals. Venturing outside, the cold clean air nipped my face, ears and fingertips. Each step I took made a crunching sound, as I headed towards, Peppers’ corral. Pepper, my daughters’ Golden Paint mare, looked dirty compared to the blinding brilliance of the new snow. As I neared her stall, she whinnied, “hello.” I cut the orange twine from a fresh bale of alfalfa hay with my pocket-knife, and carried a few good flakes to her. She buried her haltered nose deep within the flakes, seeking out, with noisy snorts, the small, green, tender leaves that she adored. When she had a good mouthful, she lifted her head and happily crunched and munched. Pepper looked at me with dark, soft brown eyes, as if to say, “thank you.”

When I got back indoors, the children were awake. They marveled at the sight of the snow, as they peered out the window.

“Let’s make snow ice cream!” exclaimed Victoria.

The other children shouted out their support. So we did!

This is the recipe we used.

SNOW ICE CREAM

One medium mixing bowl of fresh white snow

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