Shaver Lake Snow

Enough of staying inside, I don't want to be warm anymore. The snow looks like its a lot of fun. I want to go outside and explore. I wasn't expecting there to be a lot of snow on the ground when I made this trip, and I know it will soak right into my feet. Oh well.
I walk out the door and with every step I take, I feel the my feet grow colder. I cross the road and hop a gate into a snowy patch. I know I shouldn't be here, but I want to explore. I come across a tree that has been cut down. The only remains of such a mighty redwood is its stump and a few cut pieces that are waiting to be hauled off. I sit here wondering what was this open pasture. I perch my self up onto the stump and gaze about. This land does not seem right there are too many trees around for this void to exist. I begin to walk through the snow and feel the topography of the ground below. There are certain points where the snow has been packed and my foot rest atop the icy snow, and then there are the other points where my foot sinks through the powder. The snow began to get too deep for my comfort levels so I decided to stop and excavate a little. I was not prepared for the snow and I did not have gloves, but I was on a mission to see what was once in this opening. I began to kick the ground with the heel of my shoe to break up the icy top layer of snow. Then my hands starting lifting the snow up and aside. I shook of the cold and dealt with the fact that my fingers were now numb. I kept pushing and moving and scraping snow about. As I was reaching under the icy layer I felt a very hard material. It was a concrete cinder block. I then moved away more snow saw even more. Then I stopped. I retreated. I knew all too well that this site was going to be a home some day. That discovery just sunk me into a state of sadness. The fun of exploring nature had come to a screeching halt. The adrenaline that had kept my fingers and feet from feeling the cold ended. I began to shiver. I went back into the cabin and sat by my fire to warm up.