And so it begins.
The visitors to Winterpast.
Beneath the quiet sign that reads Certified Wildlife Habitat, friends arrive, never quite expecting what waits just beyond the gate. From the outside, it’s only a solid white fence, simple and unassuming, with no hint of what lives within.
They always pause, with just a slight hesitation at the entrance, as if something unseen asks them to slow down before stepping in. And then, the moment the gate opens, their eyes widen… adjusting as they take in the layers of color, movement, and life.
It can’t be seen all at once. Winterpast demands a walk.
Step by step, the beauty reveals itself in flowers stretching toward the sun, the soft rustle of leaves in the desert breeze, and the hum of wings just out of sight. Somewhere in the background, the gentle tinkling of wind chimes carries through the air like a welcome. Water trickles down the fountains. It’s the whole package on 1/2 an acre.
Of course, you can’t become a Certified Wildlife Habitat without a quiet nod of approval from the wildlife themselves.
Recently, a pair of doves decided that our little piece of heaven is the perfect place to begin their family. Tucked gently inside the branches of the Japanese Maple, which still holds on to its fall colors, with just a whisper of spring returning, she sits.
Most of the day, she simply rests there, devoted and still. A few times, we’ve peeked in, only to be met with those intensely beady eyes, offering the most unmistakable look of disapproval. Her mate waits faithfully in a nearby tree, standing watch. When boredom and hunger become too much, a soft cooing begins, and the two quietly trade places. A small, sacred rhythm that’s truly beautiful.
Shhhh. Help keep their secret safe.
By the time the path has been walked, something has shifted in our guests. Not rushing to leave, instead, they linger. They find a chair in a quiet corner and sit for a moment. Conversations soften. Shoulders drop. Time loosens its grip.
And always, in the end, the same words are spoken—sometimes aloud, sometimes only felt:
“I could stay here forever.”
Believe me when I tell you, HHH and I feel the same way.
Winterpast.
Simply magical.
Writing is life… and sometimes, life is a place called Winterpast.
Thank you for spending time here. Please come back tomorrow for more stories of life on the high plains of Northwestern Nevada.