Oh, what a beautiful morning . . . .

There was a hint of spring in the air as I walked to the barn in my knee-high rubber boots past newly exposed, gravel coated grass extending from the driveway. With songs of chickadees and robins breaking the silence and while inhaling that indescribable smell of early spring, I picked up my pace and felt like skipping through the standing water to the big metal door whereupon first sound of sliding, Lily would give me her customary morning nicker, lay her ears back, then sidle over to the stall divider and land a good swift kick over toward Lefty.

Inside, the country radio-station deejays were announcing a messy multiple car crash on HWY 95 down near Blacktail south of Sandpoint, noting that there's still black ice on the roads and to be careful with the morning commute. Lily walked back to her bucket in time for me to dump out her helping of Nutrena youth pellets and Lefty waited politely for his grain mix, as he always does. The dogs raced around outside looking for sticks to chew on, like they always do.

I can feel that we've almost turned the corner to the season we've so long awaited, a wait which has required patience beyond what we've ever had to muster up in the past. The sun is shining, and if that snow melt was noticeable from overnight, I can't wait to see the difference by late afternoon.

Last night I took the outdoor Christmas lights down. Leaving them up this long could have netted me a hefty fine in downtown Clark Fork if all those city ordinances had passed a couple of years ago, one of which dictated that the lights were to go down three weeks after Christmas. I can see the gestapo coming now, armed with snowshoes to climb over the 8-foot snowpiles to get an up close and personal photo of my infraction for proof of my municipal oversight.

Well, Selle Valley ain't no Clark Fork, so I was safe from the bureaucratic invasions of the outside world. It felt good to stand on top of snowbanks---occasionally sinking deep into soft patches of snow--- and remove those lights from the metal wire that I'd strung between the two flag poles last November. The Christmas lights emerged from the snow about two weeks ago, but some parts of the wire holding them up were still covered until a day or so ago.

After removing the lights, I even chipped away and shoveled the snowpack from one end of the deck. That was after shoveling a path out to the Scotch pine tree to get the rake. I'd left it out there a couple of days ago after trudging through knee-deep snow to rake the combs and needles in the bare tree well which now extends in a circle about 12 feet from the trunk. It was something to do that night, something that could give me a small hint that the yard work that I love isn't too far off.

I've been busily trying to finish a heavy load of freelance deadlines so that when the lawn is once again visible from driveway to the Lovestead woods, I can go at it outside. This is what some of us hicks here in North Idaho live for---the work of spring: raking, working up soil, cleaning up dog poop, and getting ready for days when from dawn to dusk we're sprucing up the yard or working in the garden, with occasional breaks in between to admire it all.

Yup, it's looking like a beautiful day today, and with just two days until the spring equinox, it's time.