Breakup

I took David on a little stroll on one bright and sunny day in March. The clear skies pulled us outside--but the temperatures kept us bundled up. 35 degrees actually feels balmy after a long winter. It was the length of time in the cold that prompted us to bundle up--an hour walk in 35 degrees calls for this:

As we left our driveway, I could only think that David was so quiet because he was feeling cozy:

We walked along snow banks that were taller than me. At one point, I heard twigs crunching just to the left of me. I looked over, and saw a big brown ear twitch on the other side of the snow bank. The next thing I knew, I watched a HUGE cow moose catch a running start, then she heaved her weight over the 6 foot snow bank about 20 feet in front of us. My heart was pounding in my ears when I saw it all happen in what seemed like slow motion--and I was looking in every direction to see if she had a calf around. I was thankful that the moose didn't see me and the stroller, and even more thankful that she didn't seem to be looking for a baby of her own to follow her lead. A mama moose is not one to be reckoned with--just avoided as much as possible.

Other than this little surprise, our walk was calming and peaceful--enough so that David caught a few z's while I strolled him along.

After I took the above picture, I looked up to see another fellow enjoying the opportunity to walk on a clear March day. He was on the other side of the road calling out to me, "It's a warm spring day, isn't it?" I looked around and had to chuckle. Allow me to share the "warm spring day" I saw:

Not a sprinkle of green anywhere--just dirty brown snowbanks as evidence that the winter is beginning to melt away.

Maybe that's why in these parts they don't call the season "spring." They call it "breakup." As in all the ice begins to break up. A month later, and I'm still waiting to see the first colors of spring green on trees. To help the season along, I have 12 seedlings on my freezer for my summer garden.