The Last Day of Winter

When does one get to walk, in one day, from winter to summer?

Our last day of winter was beautiful, on our way from Lander, Wyoming to Salt Lake City to catch our flight to Australia. We waved goodbye to our home on Cross St; it sat there, quiet in the midst of white, snuggling down for the long haul as a rental. It has been a blessing for us, a happy home. TJ lived half his life there.

We said goodbye in the cold, crystaline air to beloved friends, caring souls who came by in some sadness to wish us well. We were blessed in our friends in Lander. Parting in such sweet sorrow--excitement for a new road to travel, some sadness at relationships suspended in time like icicles coming off the corners of our little red and white house.

The road was long, and the sky of Wyoming created a symphony for us, with alternating clouds and sunshine radiating through them; the snow moved across the road like living lace; the sea-like landscape just south of South Pass seemed impervious, majestic to our passing; black moving spots of patient animals, braving the cold, watching the far hills, seemed braver than me.

We had high tea at the Grand America Hotel in Salt Lake City with Grandma and Grandpa, and we again felt the sweet sorrow of leaving.