Winter has a strong hold. I feel this way every spring, anxious to feel the warmth, see things green up and grow, and celebrate as the last patch of muddy snow disappears. This is the road the dogs and I walk, just to the north of the place. Ruby comes home dirty and covered in red mud on her feet and belly. I do not complain.
We finally got out on the snowmobiles today. A lovely ride under towering mountains glistening in whiteness against the bluebird winter sky. The trail winds and weaves through narrows, against steep banks, up to wide open plateus where one feels atop of the world and the view seems to go on forever, from mountain range to mountain range, infinite.
Lunch at the remote Box Y Ranch, today filled with snowmobilers relaxing in the little log cabin, waiting for their turn at the burgers and fries always finished with a warm chocolate chip cookie. We sit and talk to Cindy about friends from the past, crashes breaking bones, new replacement knees, and multimillion dollar landlords. It is so nice, to sit and talk there in the middle of no where.
Back in time for a walk with the dogs. They spy something in the field which looks like a raven to me. They are at full attention and I wonder if it is an eagle, seeing a bit of white just as the dogs break and take off across the field covered in 3 feet of snow so rock hard, they effortlessly fly across the surface. And then the black thing lifts its tail. I yell, I warn them to not get close, I blow the dog whistle (frantically) and they hear me. They don't get too close. And they return coming back smelling like dogs rather than skunk. That was a close call!!
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