“It is spring again. The earth is like a child that knows poems by heart.”
At long last, all the trappings were there: dogs frolicking in an awakening carpet of wet grass, bare ground overtaking crusty snow banks, water, water everywhere and plenty of places to sink, young plant life busting its blossoms on sunny, moss-covered hillsides, reflections of---just about everything, exposition of winter destruction, birds chirping and flitting and sneaking.
Yes, all of the above and much more invigorated me for a couple of hours yesterday after the sun began to make more and more frequent appearances.
After watching dogs play in their wet field during their early afternoon outing, I took them back to their garage pad, told them good bye and headed out looking for some fun spring stuff.
The drop-dead gorgeous sights we so often tout about our North Idaho are still a long way off, but persistence and luck helped me out.
Pointing the car toward Dover, I turned off in old Dover, looking for birds perched on in the midtown marsh, and then moving on to the new Dover Bay community.
That's when luck struck.
I had no idea, after all the times I've driven through Dover Bay that the bluff, a beloved spot for so many Doverites during their formative years had been turned into a park.
For some reason, I've been under the assumption that the bluff had been bought up for the trophy homes.
Glad to cast that assumption aside after discovering the sign noting Verwolf Vista Park. I almost missed it yesterday but saw it out of the corner of my eye and immediately backed up and parked.
The next few minutes were pure delight topped off with a little huffing and puffing as I made my way up the trail. The robins weren't expecting me, cuz, after all, the snow has just melted from the trail, and I'm guessing the robins and deer and even a moose or two have been enjoying the small park for themselves.
It's a beautiful spot, and I did think about my former students Erica and Stephany and a whole lot of others who loved that spot and probably considered it "their own" while growing up in Dover.
Ralph, I'm so glad you or whoever was in charge thought of its historic significance to the locals and preserved the spot for all to enjoy.
I know I enjoyed myself for about 20 minutes as the only human invader. Twas a glorious discovery, indeed, and I know I'll be back.
Later, on my way home, I thought I'd pretty much used up all my luck, but while passing by the University of Idaho Experiment Farm turned multi-use recreational facility, I pulled in, parked and found some magnificence among the aspen grove.
And, Erica, if you're reading, I snapped another photo of a place we and our neighbors pretty much thought "belonged to us."
Yup, Greenhorn Mountain, now home to the popular Mickinnick Trail, provided me some nostalgia as it cast a lovely backdrop to one aspen grove perspective.
We loved living in the shadow of the mountain on our North Boyer farm, and I know my brothers and a lot of the other neighbor kids became well acquainted with it long before it turned municipal.
It's nice when people have the foresight and care to ensure that those places remain relatively unspoiled, and it's really nice for those of us who thought we owned the places still do, along with a lot of other folks.
I love public property, and we're so fortunate to have a growing number of similar places around these parts for everyone to enjoy----especially on an early spring day.