Days, places, don't really come more magical than this.
It's not easy to look at these again without bringing on the tears.
It was a bittersweet day, being here with newfound relatives and both the E's, our son and my brother. Unfortunately, it's marked as well by the people who were missing: C, who was working madly back at home in Montana, my dad who was home with an ailing foot in Seattle, R who was sick to his stomach at the house down the valley, and my mom who sacrificed this day for me by staying back with him. E was starting to feel pretty gimpy as well by this time, except for when he was outside in the fresh air, and by that evening he'd be ill as well.
This is where we stayed when I was nine, in one of these small hytter further up the valley than where we stayed this time. These were the cabins where people used to stay only in the summers, for upland grazing of animals. In 1979 when we were here last, there were still some cows grazed up here, that were still called in from the surrounding hillsides in the evenings. They still are summer cabins, but for recreation rather than for work, and they still are without electricity. Even the buildings around where we stayed this time, further down the valley, are almost all cabins rather than full time homes.
If only this day could have been expanded into a week or more, or even more.