Ten weeks after the winter solstice, and I’m reminded of the holding pattern feeling of late autumn. Winter seems about done, but spring hasn’t yet taken hold.
We walked in a sunny and very windy 40°F, starting from the fair-weather trailhead for the first time in weeks. Due to some trick of topography, the first stretch of path from that trailhead is always colder and windier than the rest of the trail, and my children were underdressed and whiny until they’d hiked enough to warm themselves up.
After they were done complaining about being cold (“Mom, it feels like I’m not even wearing a jacket!”), we moved into our standard trail conversation:
“Mom!”
“What?”
“Mom!”
“Yes?”
“Mom!”
“Oh, look! Canada geese [Branta canadensis]!”
“Mom!”
“What?”
“Mom!”
“What is it, Honey?”
“Mom!”
“Yes?”
“Mom!”
“What?”
“Mom!”
“Look at the feather!”
“Mom!”
“Look at the clouds!”
“Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom!”
“For the love of Mike, what is it?”
“I forgot.”
Imperfect Happiness 
Love it…especially the “I forgot!” I can totally relate. Blessings.
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Thank you, Joyfull Mom! I understand now why my own mother used to say, “I changed my name,” when we said “Mom” too often.
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