When Man and Nature meet...

nature always loses. I saw these flattened worms across miles of road on my run the other morning. I'd say they were suicidal if I believed they knew or were capable of understanding what their instinctive drive to surface in the moisture would have resulted in. It reminded me of seeing a young duckling folded under the front wheel of a car as I rode to work last Spring. I think it had lost it's mother in the very same road minutes earlier and was running in circles as I approached. Rather than run to the safety of the shoulder and river below, it headed out onto the highway just as a car came speeding from behind. I've seen my fair share of roadkill, but was involved with more than my fair share last year--the most significant being the elk I mortally wounded with my truck on the way to Mt. Rainier. I hope this year I see nothing more than flattened worms. I'm sure there is a life metaphor in here somewhere but I am inclined not to explore it (which may also be metaphorical, sheesh).

Anyway, the key bit of information here is that I was running, which is a rare event. However, in a bid to more fully enjoy our community I have decided to run Bloomsday this year and have been getting in a few miles of training (we have now lived here for 10 years and have never even watched the race). I have come to appreciate how much easier cycling is on your body. My calves are sore and my left hip hurts, causing me to hobble like the middle aged slob that I am. I'm hoping I'll heal a bit by this weekend and that I don't get lost amongst the 50,000 other "worms" running the race.

To further quell the gloomy mood at the beginning of this post, here is a photo of Ansel mid Easter egg safari last weekend and a photo of newly hung drywall in our basement.








There, that feels better.

Celebrating Spring

Seems like this time of year, nearly every year, I hear complaints of Spring's late arrival. Of course, despite the abundance of rain and snow, Spring, like every other year, is, in fact, right on time. People just have short memories and start to confuse Spring with Summer.

Personally, I like how distinct Spring is at our northern latitude. It's unpredictable and exciting and builds anticipation for the easy warmth of Summer.

In celebration of Spring's arrival, and to reconnect with one another, we kidnapped our grumbling children, dragged them from their Winter hovels, and went for a walk. First we headed to my favorite place to walk in Riverside State Park, Deep Creek. The geology is fascinating, picturesque, and uniquely "Spokane" (and I'm not talking about the random pockets of garbage, which may not be unique to Spokane alone). Then we stopped downtown to admire the full force of Spokane Falls. I never tire of staring at the Spring runoff, hurtling down the falls, imagining what it must have looked like 100 years ago (and eons before that) as a wild river with salmon and nothing around but trees and grass.

I took some time to take photos and video, and even tried to do a little whizbang editing.

Ansel with indisputable evidence:





V taking a picture of me taking a picture of her. Photo-recluse Savanna is behind her.





Lazy afternoon, my favorite kind.





Emmy afloat in the waves of basalt near Deep Creek.





Looking up the Deep Creek Canyon. Good practice for Southern Utah this Summer.





The purple gondola.





A great and familiar landmark.





The base of the Monroe Street Bridge.





Mist and sunlight go well together.





Ansel climbing the "tooth" in Riverfront park. What a great kid.





City hall ivy.





Upriver with rainbow.





Back home on our hillside the glacier lilies are in full force.





Trying the calamari at the new Ciao Mambo.





Finally, a quick video. My attempt to capsulize the power of the river in the Spring so I can enjoy it the other 11 months.



Regrettably, many times the seasons pass without taking time to savor and appreciate them. This year at least, I can say I enjoyed Spring.