April...showers?

I’d gotten used to seeing the signs of spring, even the tiniest ones. I liked the barely-there shoots of green grass poking up beside the clumps of winter worn vegetation, sprouting like new teeth before the old ones have come out yet. I was used to the miniscule buttercups blooming gold in any warmer pockets: a shallow dip in a meadow, or near the base of a dark colored rock. I was ready for the days when you could walk around without a jacket, or hat, or gloves, and not regret your choice.
We’re in McCall now, and it’s a reality check. There is still a good three feet of snow on the ground. Icicles have sprouted like glass roots under our porch. The other night the temperature dropped to five degrees. And more often than not, the precipitation that falls from the gathering clouds is white rather than clear.
But, it’s not all bad. Actually, none of it is bad, I had just forgotten quite what spring meant in McCall, and not realized it was so wildly different from where we just spent the winter. The snow is really trying to melt, and maybe we’ll be out from under it in another month or so. We’re getting to see friends, and wander around the produce section of the grocery store drooling, and catch up on life in the yurt. I am feeling better by the day, quite literally, and truly hope to get back out there before spring is over in the mountains.
It’s a funny feeling to sit back in a yurt, on the outskirts of a rather tiny town, and miss the solitude of the wilderness. I wouldn’t want to live there forever, and I do enjoy the feeling of community that a small town offers, but I must say, the wilderness has been a good host. I want to go back, and I’m pretty sure that’s a sign of a good visit.