Time Out

There is, of course, something to be said for getting away from the daily routines.  When you get back, walking though the door, somehow the whole world seems new and refreshed.

In eastern Washington for a few days.  Lots of snowshoeing, tromping around the Aspens, listening to the piercing shriek of Red-tail hawks, the click-click of Bushtits, and noisy jabbering of Grey and Blue jays.  

Then there were moments of pure letting go, of simply sitting or in Murphy's case, laying in the sun.  Enjoying the break in the routine, time together, the shear beauty of the canyons, the mountains, bathed in snow, washed in sun, and scrubbed by the clean, crisp air.  

There was an hour or so, yesterday, when we were hiking up near the Bridge Creek watershed, when the whole world except for the mountains, the Ponderosa pines, the jays, when it all seemed far away.  As if we were time travelers.  We walked over the bridge, up the trail for a few miles and were gone, far far away.  

Murphy's day.