sometimes my daydreams are really thoughts about the things of which i would be dreaming, the words that describe what i would see or have seen, words i would use to tell you of the things i remember or wish to see again, so it might be appropriate to share those things in the black and white of words on paper, things which might be able to be described on the whole or in their collected parts, yet they are things which are beyond mere words when contemplated in the mixture of their richest essence, or in my experience, here
The last time I was on this particular trail, the Little Cottonwood, it was packed with more than a foot of snow…and when I occasionally stepped off the trail proper (the snow trail that had been packed-down by the hikers who had gone before me), I often sank past my knee into the cold white stuff. While I enjoy the snow and the cold of winter, it was refreshing to behold the new green of the waking forest. On today’s hike, I wandered up and down trails that I had never seen and was lured deeper into the forest by the sounds of rushing water. I was rewarded for my exploration by finding streams coming down the mountains in the most random and unexpected places. I later returned to the main trail and found myself walking in the rain along the rushing river of snowmelt that comes from the many dozens of feet of snow that has fallen during this past winter and early spring. Enjoy….