A overnight layer of powdery snow, sticking to trees and structures, turns the brown valleys white again and dusts the icy peaks. Streaks of smoky blue cloud ripple through the sky. A high of 32F.
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A overnight layer of powdery snow, sticking to trees and structures, turns the brown valleys white again and dusts the icy peaks. Streaks of smoky blue cloud ripple through the sky. A high of 32F.
Brilliant sun until early-afternoon and another high of 32F with fresh snowcaps on several peaks. A rare bright day. Busy on Belleayre.
Moody clouds with a bitter chill in the air and a high of 31F.
A calm, white Christmas Eve with an inch or two of morning snow, clearing up late morning for a brief hour of sunshine. Then back into the doldrums with the lightest possible snow fall waning by mid-afternoon. A high of 37F.
36F at 8am, snowing heavily, with the mountains shrouded in the thick fog of our profound resignation. We live in the mountains and, consequently, get all the weather. We catch all precipitation however cold it may be. The budding maple leaves that have been reddening the bare, umber brush like a light rash are covered once again in white powder for most of the day. Locals say that the weather was always like this and that back in the day, there was nothing planted before Memorial Day. Plus, of course, water is life. Keep it flowing.
A high of 30F and cold with afternoon snow beginning as a light sprinkles at lunchtime and continuing well into the evening. Cars over-shooting their turns, sliding gracefully off roads and into ditches, just before dusk ahead of the snow ploughs. Winter has finally arrived.