The view from our place was starting to get hazy, so The Ranger (TR) suggested an excursion up the canyon to stretch our legs on snowshoes. It was, in a word, Bluebird.
The wind-sculpted patterns on the snow, the sun and blue sky, the conversation we had which somehow never manifested during these past evenings of BYU class and parent/teacher conferences, AND the simple act of tramping past all the trees carrying their winter weight made for a glorious time.
My sweet rides are seventeen years old. They certainly have paid for themselves in recreation, exercise, and joyous memories. I am so deeply grateful for the blessings of today!
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