Its so brilliantly white, just popping up in front of you from the surrounding green, its hard to believe its real. Even through the bug spattered windshield, Mt. Shasta is an imposing sight. We moved from Redding to Rogue River, Oregon. Driving over the Siskiyous is always a beautiful, scenic trip at this time of year. But, Shasta…is Shasta. The most snow I’ve ever seen on her slopes at this time of year.
Lake Shasta, usually has a red soil line beneath the trees from its all time high level. This is the first time I’ve seen it with the water sloshing up to tree level.
As we got closer, I couldn’t resist shot after shot of this gorgeous mountain.
And the startling Black Butte was equally beautiful, with more greenery than I can remember, and with a slash of snow in a crevice as well.
The State of Jefferson has a bigger sign, freshly painted, most likely reflecting new activity from the proposed new leadership such as Mark Smith who has gone to Washington D.C. three times as a delegate to push their cause.
On my own property in Rogue River, the river was deep and wide with only a small section of white water and one downed tree with a root ball sticking up in the air.
I got my fire suppression arranged so I can sign off when the work is done. Oregon wants a personal certification from the land owner that you’ve complied with the removal of any endangering vegetative fuels. There is plenty of that this year. All is well. I love this place on the river, despite the fact that about half of my seven acres floods every now and then according to the neighbors. The mobile and well house have never been under water, though as far back as anyone can remember.