Smoke Or Not

That was the question as friend Joyce and I headed out last Tuesday for Hope Valley, a little south of Tahoe on the back side of the Sierra. Burned trees could be seen on both sides of Highway 50 but we encountered little smoke, even in Pollock Pines, which was clearly suffering physically and emotionally from the King fire. At Sorenson's resort (my fifth trip there in 14 years) the air was crystal clear and in the seventies until the last morning, when rain slid in. The hot summer and warm fall produced little color in the aspen. The peak is probably two weeks away. Disappointing, but still beautiful.
One day we explored Markleyville and another we wound our way up to Lower Blue Lake.
I had forgotten how lovely cold mountain water tastes. We cooked all our meals in our neat housekeeping cabin, only indulging once in Sorensons's famous berry cobbler.
It was nostalgic for me; three times I had been there with Lee, and always before with Kodi, for he loved to wade in the West fork of the Carson River.
Even though my cardiologist said I would not be bothered by the altitude, I found my energy level
depleted. I think I'll try the seashore for my next vacation.  Meanwhile, I hope I got some photos for inspiration for painting.