When we first drove into Mt. Rainier, we drove into grey, hazy obscurity.  We vaguely knew where Mt. Rainier was, but we couldn't exactly see it.  In fact, the volcano proved to be incredibly elusive, and we saw almost no sky until we left the National Park two days later. 

Some Longmire trails were open and pleasantly green.

Though it was nice trekking around Longmire, it became infinitely more exciting when we drove up to the higher elevation areas around Paradise.  Though we saw no sign of Mt. Rainier, we did get a brief glimpse of the Tatoosh range.  The half-buried Paradise Visitor center was actually rather spacious inside.  Accessing any of its facilities felt vaguely like I was traveling through a warren of tunnels and caves since most of it was still buried under several feet of snow.

It was exciting strapping on snowshoes and waterproof gear for a rather cold and wet tromp through the snow.  Paradise was buried under a twenty-five feet of snow, with almost five inches of fresh snow added daily.  "Saplings" in the snow were actually the tops of gigantic trees.  We traveled roughly six miles through four trails, some marked with flags and some visible only through the footprints of others.  Through it all snow fell persistently and steadily, and what was previously visible would disappear only a few moments later in a white out.  The higher you went the harder the wind blew and the harder it became to see.

For a brief moment the snow lightened a bit so we could see more of the landscape... and also how far we still had to go.  The tiny specks you see are people.

On our first day at the park we saw nary a soul, and it felt like we were the only visitors in the park.  But by the second, we saw a few alpine climbers trekking to their base camp via the glacier vista trail.  And when a tiny patch of sky broke through for a blissful hour, people turned out to play.

Though much of Mt. Rainier is closed at the tail end of a wet winter, what we did see was rather amazing.

In 2007, in my pre-SLR days, a few friends, Tony, and I joined a few travelers from the U.K. in the back of a rattling van that wound its way slowly through a tiny mountain pass in Norway.  We were on our way to Nigardsbreen, a tiny arm of Jostedalsbreen, the largest glacier in Europe.  The road was sometimes so narrow that two cars couldn't pass through it, so oncoming traffic had to hug the side and wait for the other car to pass.

When we arrived it was a little surreal.  A boat docked at one end of the glacier-fed lake ferried us across, and Nigardsbreen, that seemingly tiny finger of the Jostedal Glacier, loomed over us, larger than life.

Being southern California bred, I wore practically all my clothes for this one, because despite the tiny glint of sunlight, it was cold.  Our host wore "knickers" (which looked sort of like capri pants to me), and seemed impervious to the temperature.  The two photos of us below were taken by my friend Shu Ping.  We fancied that we looked sort of like an REI ad (or maybe the Village people).

We drank the fresh water from one of the streams and on our hike back we got a little lost and encountered some errant sheep  (pictured above) that followed us partway back.  After climbing a few hills (crossing private property, no doubt) and meeting a few puzzled locals, we made it down just in time to meet our host, buy blueberries from a local farm, and return home.  

The intention was just to post one or two favorite photos, but the Alhambra is just so physically stunning that it was impossible to do.  The day we arrived it was so hot that I was ready to call it quits when we repeatedly got lost navigating Granada's windy alleys.  I wouldn't have been able to retrace our steps if my life depended on it.  But the view of the Alhambra, commandingly situated over the rest of Granada, was worth it.

And another great idea is to follow up a trek in afternoon heat with tea and pastries in a quiet corner of the Arabian quarter.

The interior of the Alhambra is a rambling affair.  Both Islamic and Christian influences intertwine throughout the compound.  One trick to recognizing the differences is that Islamic architecture tends to have modest exteriors and intricate interiors.

My old coworker's boyfriend proposed to her at the Alhambra.  Who says romance is dead?  Oh yeah, Parkway Drive.

Within a few days of eyeing the fashionable ladies in Andalusia, I was convinced that I too could rock the harem pants.  Tony thankfully convinced me otherwise.  I was also amused to see that there's a male version of those pants, too.

And someday, if we ever return, I've got my eye on those Arabic baths.  Potentially touristy, but oh, definitely worth a soak or two...

In anticipation of summer (yes, I know we still have to go through spring first), here are a few pictures as a reminder that though it's not quite summer here, it certainly is summer somewhere in the world.  I never got to upload these photos, but they were taken almost exactly year ago during Jen and Dave's wedding in gorgeous Playa del Carmen.  What is one advantage of having a destination wedding?  You can take all your wedding guests snorkeling with you on a private catamaran a few days before the wedding.