I picture the house with the horses corralled behind it and although I've never been inside, I can already imagine being there. I always picture it in full summer sun but realize the reality will most likely be snowy and gray for a bit as May in Wyoming's northern corner usually is. Leaving 70 degree days of summer-so-close-you-can-taste-it (with wild edible hunting, gardens growing, baby animals maturing, and sun shining) for a little piece of heaven with spring still on the way. The spectacle of reawakening is just beginning when I arrive each year... I travel back in time and relive it again. That is worth it.
For now, it's counting down days of work left (less than 12 for me) and trying to remember where exactly the stove fuel is. Or taking out my brand new hiking boots for small hikes in order to prevent blistering and to attempt a gradual breaking in. I savor every East Coast draft straight from the brewery, every wild-picked morel mushroom, every taste of local honey, every sushi date and bluegrass music event, every smiling face of the loved ones I have at home. I think of places we just have to try or to hike once more before we head OUT WEST. I am a migrator whose wings are itching and head is filled with the opportunities that await me. What program will I give first? Which favorite hike will I do first? How many bears will I see that first month (I saw at least 12 bears last May)?
I am ready to find out...
