I’ve been sidelined from running for about a week now because of my cold but today, I was ready to run! I took a few tissues and stuffed them in the pocket of my pants because guess what? I didn’t even have to wear a jacket because it was already 30 degrees and getting warmer by the second! March has started with a bang and in the 7 days since I’ve welcomed a Colorado morning from the better side of my bedroom window, the world has come alive again. Geese honked overhead as I left my house at 6:45 this morning. Birds chirped in the bare branches of the cottonwoods and when I brushed by a tree while sidestepping the remnants of ice on the Greenbelt path, there was a thickening of buds on the branches. The icing on the cake of this magical morning was the surprise that awaited me on Davidson Mesa. Can you guess what it was?? It was mud. There was mud on the trail of Davidson Mesa.
You heard right! There was MUD!!! Not only is the snow and ice starting to recede, the ground is warming up! My shoes squished a little as I ran the three mile loop. No prairie dogs greeted me, but there was a huge uptick in the hoards of runners that were out and about this fine morning. On average this winter, I’ve seen maybe one person per run; today I think there were about TEN different groups of people on the route!
And now, while I sit here at my computer staring out the window at my backyard, two cute little birdies are considering the merits of making a nest in the abandoned metal candle-holder thingie that has been here since we moved in almost five years ago.
This winter has been long. I said something to that effect the other night and my daughter piped up “Yeah, like “The Long Winter” in Little House on the Prairie!” Well, kind of. We definitely haven’t lead a depraved and pathetic life like the Ingalls’ did during that 7-month winter on the Dakota plains where they had little heat and no fresh food for months. With the perspective my 10-year-old brought to the table, I guess I’ll stop calling it a “Long Winter” since I don’t want to compare our winter with the living hell the pioneers lived through. So maybe I’ll just leave it alone and say “I’m glad to see mud on the trails again”.