The only cure is a sundress

It was 50 degrees today, sunny and clear. I bolted out of work at 3:00 pm and sped home to fetch the dogs; we made it to the trailhead by 3:27.

My old New Balance sneaks left deep prints on the soft ground. The boys splashed in the mud and sniffed the air - grass and earth and freshness and promise.

I love this time of year. All I can think about is going south to climb for the weekend, camping in the desert and heading home again on Sunday night dirty and tired and happy.

We have lots of plans for the next couple months. There's gardening, of course, but there's also Red Rocks and the Red River Gorge and Santa Barbara and Mexico and Elephant's Perch and the City of Rocks and, obviously, Indian Creek. Oh, and Zion.

Oh dear. Hard to fit it all in, but fun to try. Arnold and Red are game, too, and will be our constant companions, looking up and wagging their tails at us as we try and try and try to climb our projects before our strength fails, before dark, before the weekend is over and we have to drive home to shower up for work on Monday.

I'm looking forward to wearing sundresses and flip flops and being tan and having a sock line from running and approaches.

I never liked spring when I was younger. I always wanted to keep skiing. I still love to ski - it makes me really happy - but something about spring, about newness, growth, possibility, the ease of warm weather (ahem, not HOT weather, mind you...I'll be bitching about Utah temps come July), the desire to hightail it out of town, swimming with the dogs in the resovoir at the base of Big Cottonwood Canyon, daylight till 9 pm....

It feels right for me right now.