Yesterday I stepped out the door to go to work and something didn’t seem right. It was uncharacteristically warm, the wind wasn’t blowing, and the strange, dark lumps in our barren trees were robins— fifteen of them. Then it hit me. Spring will come again, days will grow longer, new life will appear in the trees and grass, and snow will melt in the backcountry, inviting us to renew our search for solitude, beauty and self-awareness.
The first sign of the earth waking from its winter sleep calls to mind the line from Tennyson’s Locksley Hall: “In the Spring a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.” However, our readers are more likely to be turning to thoughts of days on a trail and evenings by a campfire. But instead of just thinking, why not do something about it?