Hope
These past January days have been grey, rainy and dreary. In spite of it, the view over Boise on my walk today still looked beautiful through my blurry dampness.
There were bunnies playing tag in the bushes, and birds singing a sweet song in the trees. All of the magnolia trees all have fuzzy buds on the tips of their branches. They lay in wait to announce a new season’s arrival.
Is it too early to be feeling a shift in the cold earth? Is it my imagination grasping at hopes of brighter, sunny days?
I find comfort in the fact that seasons change. Spring will come with promises of new life and green summer days to follow. It will not fail me.
While I restlessly wait, high places call my name.
Images from my birthday backpacking trip this past summer:
Jughandle’s false summit over Louie Lake.
Climbing straight up. McCall far down below.
She calls me Melba.
Mountains and good company = me a happy girl.
