We spent a couple days in Utah last weekend. Sunday was beautiful, deep blue sky, bright sun, and we went snow-shoeing up a creek between two mountains, where in summer there is a string of beaver-ponds (though possibly no longer any beavers, since the available tree trunks are now at an unsafe-for-beavers distance from the streambed). The snow glittered, the sensuous shapes of the drifts cast soft shadows, and we pushed on till we came to a fence marked private property, though there was, from the valley, no sign of a house nearby. Anyway, we were tired, the sun was sinking, and we turned around and slogged back. Snow-shoes are a very satisfactory way to get around on deep, untouched snow.
Monday we woke up to a blizzard, but still made it to the airport, where our flight left on time and returned to the Bay Area, where it was spring.