Ah, sweet refuge amidst the ponderosas of Arizona's alpine forests, where spring goes about its business while the fading shadow of old man winter still looms.
Of course, you do your best to keep a step or two ahead of the weather, but every now and then, a nomad gets caught with his pants way down by the ankles. As was the case when I peeked out my window this morning.
A knee-jerk move down to warmer elevations screams out at times like this, but then, the rolling home was built to handle this kind of thing. And the peaceful solitude that only a mountaintop can provide is somehow magnified in these conditions. Plenty of time to bask in the SoCal sun awaits, so a pants-dropping wintry run-in turns into a bonus worth hanging around for.