The Nevada I loved

This picture was taken by my son John, when he stopped at Echo Summit to catch a view of Lake Tahoe in the valley at the base of the mountains. It brings back so many memories of the years I lived in Nevada and the trips I shared with family members and friends.

You may hear some people say Nevada is ugly, brown, flood plains, earthquake country, arid, unfriendly . . . and I smile. We who lived in Nevada knew better but thought this was good, then they would not bother to move there.
Nevada is awesome, truly beautiful no matter what direction you choose to visit. I have written poetry to sing its praises and have pictures a calendar company would love to have.

I have pictures of myself with my children walking over by the Carson River watching the wild horses, then walking the pathways for exercise and having a picnic by the river.


My friend Helen would telephone and invite me to ride out with her for a picnic to visit a high mountain area near the California/Nevada border, where rivers overflowed, not their banks, but in moving water over huge rocks that sang the praises of the countryside. The noise the water makes is mesmerizing as it rushes and swirls around carving out a place all its own.

She would call when the wild flowers were blooming, and introduced me to Indian Paint Brush and a myriad of colorful wild flowers spread out over the meadow lands in the spring, enough to take your breath away.

One day we went south, took a mini vacation and visited the Lehman caves. Neither of us had been inside of a cave so it was with trepedation that we entered and walked down through the dim lit areas where the beautiful stalagmites hang like drops of crystals. On our way home we decided to follow a sign to a ghost town, only to find just a small sign at the bend of a road far into the base of the mountains. For awhile we thought we were lost and worried about finding the road leading to the highway we could see way off in the distance. We knew we were heading in the right direction but we didn't know if the road would be driveable. For a short while it was a horror but then we found a paved road and it led us out to where we needed to be. Helen loved her little Toyota and was not happy to have a ride through all the brambles and rocky road, but it was a happy face when she drove on the paved road back to civilizaton and not a scratch on her 'baby'.

One of my favorite trips was up into the California/Nevada pass. It is like standing on top of the world looking down into a verdant valley which emenated pure silence. It is a very special feeling to stand in the midst of fabulous scenery and 'hear' silence. The meadows, the winding roads, the huge almond shaded rocks and the wonderful variety of pines all contribute to our senses and the wonders of creation.

So Helen, my friend, if you are reading this today, I thank you for your friendship and for sharing Nevada with me. Time has made changes for our octogenarian years, but I am sure, like me, you are finding new and different views to enjoy. I think Nevada will always be very special in our hearts. . . just like you are.