After finishing the dishes and packing tomorrow's lunches, I was offered the rare chance to wander solo (well, not completely solo... my thrilled dog accompanied me) outside this evening. With the kids happily curled up with Daddy inside, I meandered down the trail to check on our lower river property. What beauty there is even now! At first glance, the woods appeared the same weary, bleak branches I've watched all winter. Then something catches the eye... like a haze or a faint smoke... a tinge of green that makes one look twice. Suddenly, the whole forest is speckled with tiny green buds... the most gentle green the woods will ever sport. But that's not all. Dusting the green buds and the bare branches is a mist of white snow so minimal it deceives the mind into thinking the forest is just a shade brighter, despite the swirling darkness of the evening clouds. Its a teasing preview to the white show of serviceberry and mock orange blooms to come... There is so much to be seen when I just look twice.

The river is running high now. The snow from the mountains obviously melted quickly during the recent warm days and has now created an angry brown force that threatens to take down any weakened tree daring too close to the banks. I'll keep my distance. I check the old rhubarb my dad gave me two years ago before the house was built. I planted it down near the river under some large cottonwoods that seemed stable and protecting. That rhubarb has been cultivated for probably 80 years - it came from my Norweigen great-grandparents' North Dakota farm - and now its finally growing free and wild in the woods... and it is thriving! I wasn't sure after something (a deer?) tore it up last summer right before I was going to put it in a pie, but now I know it is a survivor. Its amazing how life clings and comes back year after year.

I am awed by what I have seen this evening. I hope everyone has the chance to go outside solo and look twice...