Stella and I recently drove up into the San Gabriel mountains, the collection of rocky peaks that frame Los Angeles so perfectly, for her first day in the snow. We have been waiting all season for the kind o white stuff that falls in feet and lends to the perfect snowman creation. Finally, on Monday and Tuesday, it fell, leaving Stella and I with no choice but to strap on our winter attire and head for the snow. She wore sweatpants, dress, socks and a sweater, which is arguably the most clothing she has ever had on her body at one time.
We bought oversize pink gloves and a sled at the mountain hardware store before heading out to find an ideal spot for our activities.
We sledded down long hills at scary speeds, dodging pine trees and boulders along our made up routes. We took walks through the forest, me pulling her on the sled, her sitting and shivering and pointing to every single pine cone she saw. We talked about frostbite and precipitation and laughed at ourselves every time I hopelessly tried to put each of her fingers into the glove. It was perfect.