Last Saturday the temperature soared to 55 degrees. It was a real heat wave. We boldly ventured outside with no hat or gloves and only our light-weight jackets. Not a trace of snow was left in the yard. We got so excited we decided to try hiking for the first time since early November.
We found a state park 20 miles West of our house and enthusiastically set out for our spring adventure. Only when we got to the park and found the trail iced over did we realize, oops, maybe we miscalculated about the spring part.
In the park, the sky seemed darker and the wind felt cooler. I was glad I had thrown my down coat in the car at the last minute. Our spirits were a bit dampened, but we pressed on.
Instead of the trail, we headed down a flat gravel road where others were walking (we weren't the only ones anxious for a season change). The road was dotted with slushy snow, but passable, so we cruised along until we came across this, and I almost fell over in disbelief:
Are you kidding me? Ice fishing? In March? I am so naive. This is when we looked at each other and realized, we are complete amateurs.
Mom, what is it? Son, I don't know. I've never seen this before, a frozen lake??
I recently noticed that March 20 is marked as the first day of spring on my office calendar. This date has absolutely no relevance in Texas, so it has never come to my attention before. I am taking it very seriously now. I guess they mean it literally around here.
1 comment:
chuckle, chuckle.
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