A Taste of Spring

Since mild and balmy days are few and far between we laced on boots, grabbed our lightest jackets and set off for an afternoon in the sun.

The road was wide with few rocks to stumble over and we strode out, eager to feel the warm sun on our faces.  Crossing creeks and narrow ditches filled with half frozen remnants of last week's zero temperature, was a joy.  Clear water shone with crystal sheen and last fall's leaves were mirrored in the flashing light.

Wind blew our hair and cooled our faces as we climbed higher and higher, up the steeper slopes, now out of breath but not wanting to stop for fear of losing the light that poured down, moving ever westward with the waning day.

At last.  At last.  Here we were and stopped to gaze at light drenched hills and valleys stretching as far as eye could see.  Not wanting to miss this chance we ventured on, with speeding pace to find the one notch that could offer us a view we had not seen before.  And there it was. 

Facing east, with searching eyes we saw a sight that made us smile and laugh.  For there was home.  Our little home, shining in the sun.  Not so very far away.  The cedar glowing green,  grass still brown with winter's touch, roof touched with sunset light.

Relieved we started back.  Pebbles on the road cast shadows long as Stonehenge's.  Passing each curve we saw the tree-line shadows striping oak and sycamore.

It was then I noticed the wind shifting to the north.  Surely it couldn't happen so fast.  We knew that this was the last time we would feel the gentle hint of spring for a time.  I wanted to stop and turn and chide the breeze for being such a turncoat.  Unfair.  Unfair.  To tease and tempt us with such a perfect day.

Tossing back my head and laughing at the icy wind I knew that we had won.  Winter may come back tomorrow.  But at least we had a taste, a blessed taste, of spring today.