We spent the long Thanksgiving weekend absorbing the beauty of an unexpected early snow storm. Rather than taking our usual, "quickie" route to Lake Tahoe, we chose the more scenic drive down 88 with its incredible vistas of the majestic mountain peaks, frozen alpine lakes and snow-covered meadows.
On the Nevada side, 88 dumps out of the Sierras into a large valley filled with the fingerprints of human habitation. It started slowly with a few houses, cattle grazing in the fields, and wide open spaces. However, as 88 joined 395, the landscape slowly morphed into the ugliness of human sprawl. I chose to look up, instead, at the mountains that lined both sides of this valley, and to look straight ahead past civilization to absorb the harsh beauty of the surrounding high desert. My efforts were richly rewarded.
In Carson City we picked up 50 as we turned eastward into an adjoining valley, driving until the buildings became scarcer and the mountains moved closer. This is the land of wild horses, defunct silver mines and rugged individuals. As we drove further out, relatively new housing developments periodically dot the landscape. Golf courses and man-made ponds grace the valley with their unexpected and out of place presence. This was and is the land of the American dream. Unfortunately, these days the dream is a bit tattered. Tumbleweeds blow down empty streets dotted with foreclosed or unfinished homes; shops stand empty; state unemployment hovers at 25%.
It could be a sad and depressing vista but once again, the mountains attracted my attention and uplifted my spirits. Our destination was the home of dear friends, an oasis of welcomed hospitality. Truly, they are living the American dream despite difficult surroundings. They have chosen to see only the good in their circumstances, grateful for all that they have, knowing that some day, once again, the area will flourish. Yes, for them, life is good because they choose to see it that way.
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