by underswansea


Warm weather has rolled in. The wind is blowing. The curtains are fluttering inside the house. The temperature is above freezing. It shows how uncomfortable I get when things aren’t normal. It’s February and it should be cold, like last year. It’s a strange winter without many clear skies. Willow and I walk the creek bed daily. She likes the shallow water. I scan the deep water for trout, whitefish and char, but see none. I know they have to go past here to get above. The Columbia is a trickle. It picks up steam well below. Maybe someday I’ll see where it empties. For now, I’m content making the little dog hike.