The weather has finally turned to spring, so today I took a little hike. There's a steep ridge near my house that has been left wild; it is crisscrossed with narrow dirt trails, where people jog (with or without dogs) and hike. There's a highway in the valley below, but the road noise is low. The trails are mostly quiet in the morning.
I brought a backpack with a snack and water, my camera, my outdoor sketching journal, pencils and pens. I took it slowly, taking everything in, not in a hurry to get anywhere.
I spotted some blooms up the steep slope and climbed up to sketch them. Finding a place to perch, without sliding back down, was a challenge. Once I took out the colored pencils, I was frustrated that I could not find the right green for the stems and leaves. But I continued, accepting my rusty drawing skills, consoling myself with some photos of the scene that I didn't capture very well in the journal.
I ate my snack, happy to be eating outside. I watched a freight train on the ridge opposite me, then closed my eyes to feel the sun on my back and the still-cool breeze on my face. This was a spring moment. All was right with the world.