We spotted the first catkins on the Aspen trees. The very slow and deliberate emergence of spring in the flora is in such stark contrast to the grand show of spring by the skyward elements – snow, sun, snow, sun, snow, sun, and so it goes, until May or June.
We wandered somewhere different today. Instead of frolicking in the open meadows of the Ponderosas, we wove our way through spruce and fir. What a different experience. While the Ponderosa forest bares all, the spruce/fir forest seems to harbor deep secrets. I always feel a little trepidation upon entering this forest, clambering over the forest litter, glimpsing little crannies filled with velvet moss, and wondering what could be lurking in dark caverns that seem to beg one to investigate further. We enter and pause. Then we venture a bit further, and, at some point, we are carried deeper by the forest itself, unable to turn back, but feeling like we could get lost, though we know we won’t. It’s right out of the fairy tales.
While wandering we spied some oh-so-delicate winged creatures, half the size of mosquitoes, but with mosquito-sized wings. Five or six of them flew about our feet each time we stepped through a snow pile. Perhaps there was a snow hatch? Not sure, but it was nice to notice something new.