Alas!

Two days ago I was a blanket of snow and ice covering the entire Gorge from base to summit, end to end. Half a foot deep and holding the wilderness in a frozen grip.

Today. A blot of sleet and snow no larger than your fist. That fist you shook at the skies on that last, cold day. And I? A skein of ice. Sublimating to the air. Melting slowly into the forest loam.

Spring is here. The sun is warming the air and nourishing the earth.

But I am not undone.

Wednesday night. Wednesday night. I will return.

15 degrees and heavy snow.

A last hurrah? You never know. There's the rest of March, and April is not out of the question.

Along the Rock Jock Trail. 3400 feet.