Spring in N. A.

I am remembering that moment between Winter and Spring and the few weeks that follow. When I was hiking the Appalachian Trail 17, 18 and 19 miles a day there would still be patches of snow in shaded areas, young green grasses sprouting forth in dappled sunlit areas, springs gurgling with fresh cold water struggling to find the stream bed from years past. Green buds on dogwood trees facing the light and asking forcing their way into a flower, celebrating the arrival of a new Spring. Many times then I was hiking alone, but sometimes with my hiking partner Steve who was a superb wilderness hiker. He always challenged me to an other mile, and then another. It is a moment of transition--that moment between Winter and Spring.