The snow is melting, leaving behind a trail of mud. Nelson has never been happier. I have never had less balance. Mud, ice, snow and thud. I need to invest in a pair of trail runners.
We trekked through Boulder County for a couple hours this morning, winding around the pointy orange teeth of a mountain chain that sits just west of the city. Collegiate cross country teams zipped around us, using the trail system for a draconian training tool.
Sadly, the giant tree at the Heirloom Homestead — that silver maple ash that is more than a century old — didn’t weather the storm well. Huge branches split leaving the towering beauty to resemble a weepy willow.
Otherwise, we are ready for the next snow. And I’m getting used to living with dirty floors. Paw prints on the hardwood is now a sign of home.