An afternoon stroll

The sky is overcast, but the sun peeks out of little breaks in the clouds. I trudge out barefoot into the beauty of the day. I find our double stroller and open it. Its covered in sawdust from all the renovations going on in the house. I brush it off and go back inside. I grab one baby, take her out and harness her in, and then back in for the other. Its warm enough that I don't need  a jacket, but cool enough that I cover my girls with blankets and we're off.

We stroll up the very long lane that you need to drive to get to the house. Its at least a quarter of a mile back. I carefully walk, hoping to avoid as much mud and muck as possible.

Springtime has come to Idaho. It is one of my favorite times of year. The juxtaposition between the warm sun beating down and the cool snow that still covers the ground has always astounded me.

I look down to see little green blades of grass peeking up through the mud and snow. They are awake now, they stretch up to feel the sun's warmth that so easily touches my skin. Oh,  how would it be to be a blade of grass and struggle like that? I count my blessings, blessing 1- I can feel the sun without struggle.

The sunlight reflects off the white snow. I wish I'd remembered my sunglasses. The girls happily babble and look around...I make a mental note to find them some sunglasses the next time I'm at the dollar store. I don't know if they would keep them on, but I can't help but wonder if the walk would be even MORE pleasant for them (which doesn't seem possible.)

I smile as I watch them poke their little hands in between the seats and then over the seats to hold hands. In spite of their young age, you can see their love for each other.

We walk down the road. First, our neighbor's white dog greets us with a bark. Faith is unphased, Phillie just stares at him. The dog stays in the yard but barks the whole time we walk past. We come upon a horse, one of Faith's new loves. She babbles at it and motions for me to pick her up. I would love to, but I just can't. There is a 4 foot puddle and at least a 2 foot deep pile of snow between us and the fence. I walk on and Faith babbles and points at the cows as we pass them. I stop for a minute so she can look at the big bull. I'm surprised he is fenced in with all the cows, but I do realize its spring and some farmers prefer to try to let things happen the natural way before paying for science to help them out...or maybe this bull doesn't really bother the cows...in any case, we stop for a look, and then walk on.

About halfway up down 1800 E, I see a large black dog ahead. He is barking and begins to run towards the road where we are. I decide its probably best to turn around just in case he doesn't have the intention of being friendly.

When I turn around, I notice that under the stroller the whole time, etched deep in the mud, are tracks from horse shoes. Someone must have taken an early morning ride. How lovely. In this weather, I'm sure a horseback ride is a very pleasant activity. I follow the tracks, looking down at them and the grass beneath them and think about how lucky I am to be in this beautiful place. I look up at the mountains, still snow covered, with evergreen trees and think how wonderful  it will be to be able to go camping this summer.

I pass the house on the corner. Its for sale and in our price range, but Jeff has said no. He isn't sure he wants to live in the same ward he grew up in.  I walk around it to see what it looks like from every angle in the front, I'm not brave enough to walk around back.

Faith begins to whine. I realize she has seen the horse again and wants to go say hello. I walk around the front of the stroller and stroke her cheek and give her a kiss, promising that we will say hello when our way isn't blocked from the road. Phillie is out like a light, sleeping peacefully in the warm but cool, crisp weather. I smile at her. Faith looks over and begins to pat Phillie's little hand in an opening underneath the bar that separates their seats. She smiles up at me, I can see the tell-tale signs that she too is ready for another nap.

 With that, I push the stroller back towards our current residence. I see my mother in law coming back from town. She turns down the lane and drives slowly over the mud. I stop to get the mail and notice all the birds dotting the sleeping trees. A robin sings a song and pheasants hide in the brush, thinking I can't see them. A big rooster stirs as I walk past him. He almost prepares himself to fly away, but calms and begins to be quiet again...if Jeff were here, he'd probably try to scare him out to get a better look at him.

I look at the huge trees that dot the lane and wonder when they will wake up from their winter slumber and begin to blossom. I walk a little slower, trying to soak this day, and this lovely weather in. I'm grateful for the return of spring, but mourn for the loss of the beautiful clean snow...

I only got a month and a half of winter. Most people would say I was lucky, and that Idaho winters are too long, but after being away from the changing seasons and missing them terribly, I don't mind it so much. I missed the snow. I missed waking up to a still, silent blanket of white covering the earth, making it clean and fresh.

I'm sure this isn't the last we've seen of winter white...generally in Idaho, we can expect snow clear through May...but its the last we will see it in vast quantities until December, after too long, any more snow that falls won't stick for longer than a day...

But then I remember, spring is coming. All the beautiful, tall trees on the lane with bud with blossoms and leaves, the ivy climbs up them will turn green again, and we can walk in the wooded area behind the house without having to navigate through snow that goes up to my hips. Everything will be new and fresh again...thanks to the winter chill.

Hugs and beautiful sights until next time darlings.