The sun was blazing when we got to Yosemite, the granite sparkling in the afternoon light, bits of snow clinging to the ridges and wrinkles.
Rain was forecast for the next day, so we hiked to mirror lake...and around the valley. Crisp, fragrant, almost empty. No shouts echoing off the granite walls, no cars. A pair of Acorn woodpeckers scolded us as we walked past the nest they were building. A Stellar Jay screeched and followed us, hopping and stropping his beak on the branches.
Mirror Lake is a dry sandy wasteland for most of the year. It's silting in, becoming a meadow.
But not yet.
I love this old hotel. The Ahwahnee dining room.
With deer just outside the windows.
The kids romping on the lawn at sunset, making memories.
Some day, when I am just a memory, these kids will be here with their kids, watching them practice somersaults.
We went to bed with the rain hammering on the roof. Half way thru the night it got eerily quiet. In the morning we knew why -
We went to sleep in a rainstorm and woke up in a postcard.
Half dome wore a cape of clouds:
Mist, magic.
Yosemite Falls looked like a Bierstadt painting:
And then it started to melt:
And we got really wet.
By noon you'd never know there'd been snow. But we will remember the winter wonderland that was.
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Our friends were in the Bracebridge Dinner, a medieval pageant and feast. And the Ahwahnee was warm and cosy. 
