It was almost a desperate journey. We had traveled every winter for three years in search of snow only to be foiled by rain or sun. This winter past was shaping up to be the same. The road to Yosemite was cold but snow-free.
I remember the moment we rounded the corner somewhere in Yosemite Valley and beheld a field of snow. Excitedly we pulled over and played.
As we climbed back into our vehicle, Hugin and Munin, the two messengers of Odin, landed next to us. They were HUGE, and they squawked and cawed, demanding to deliver their message. I rolled down the window and greeted them. Still, they called to me. I got out and kneeled down. One of them hopped nearer and looked me straight in the eye.