We walked into the creek bottom. It was glare ice on the roads. The weekend feels good. Hard earned in the face of it all. Once we were in the timber the rain started. The little dog kept to the tracks, running rampant on the rocks beside the water. Willow is holding her own in cold or mild. She is digging and sniffing. It’s been a warm winter. February has been wet instead of cold. It makes me think we have some chilly weather ahead. I saw a Dipper fly the length of the creek. Heading downstream. He stayed just above the water and turned at every bend of water. I couldn’t believe how good it made me feel. He was gone in just a few seconds. The rain fell on Lisa and I. We used to make up and out on days like this. Now we watch the clouds on the mountains and wonder how high we can travel the backroads. Her smile still lights my way. I cut a few branches of red willow. Inside, in a vase, it will bloom before spring. It’s trickery, like the present weather, but what the hell!