I am now sturdy enough to walk outside after breaking my ankle in December. When I said, “I missed being outside this winter,” my sister the rancher replied, “You didn’t miss anything.” I didn’t have to feed cows in four feet of snow or try to save a fall calf from frost bite. I am not too sad to have missed that perspective of the long winter, but I did miss the sunlight on snow, the ice sculpting the irrigation ditch, the touch of snow on my face and the glide of skiing through shadows cast in moonlight. But now spring is here. The last couple weeks I’ve been walking with my phone or sometimes my lighter camera, not quite up for the heft of my Nikon. The wash of warm light this evening was welcome after many grey days. It drew me to the muted remains of the cattails and Queen Anne’s lace and the soft layered thrash of branches.
