This lifestyle certainly allows plenty of time for introspection. Most days I spend six or seven hours alone, walking, out of sight and sound of any other human being. Some days my thoughts turn inward, and I pass the miles exploring memories of people and events that have shaped my past. Other days my mind nestles into a meditative daze, and I sense myself connected to the birds, the plants, the flowers, the trees, like a man floating on the breeze through a boundless garden.
--from As Far As The Eye Can See, the chronicle of a 1979 through-hike of the Appalachian Trail from Georgia to Maine, by David Brill.

It happened this morning quite unexpectedly. But then, it always seems to catch me off guard. Maybe you too.

I rolled up the shade on the big picture window of my house and looked out for a few long minutes.

And then it hit me.

The fever.

Outside, I realized, everything had changed all of a sudden. The angle of the sun, and it's warmth pouring through the glass. The way the shadows fell across the ground. The receding snow, the thawing of brown earth.

Inside too, things had also changed. Inside of me. Much of the way I think, feel, act. Some ways I can see and understand, other ways are yet to be defined, if ever.

Spring is here and the cycle of life continues on its journey. It's a time for renewal. A time to reflect and take stock after the harshness of winter. Time to brighten up the dull gray of life. To break out with green leaves on the trees and grass on the fields. To break out with a smile, a peal of laughter. To enjoy a real deep breath of sweet fresh air.

We've made it through! It's spring!

Where to from here? Well, I'm not entirely sure.

But there's a path underneath my feet, and its leads off somewhere over that way. So I thought I might as well make the most of this fine spring day and start walking for a bit, and maybe see where it goes...

You're welcome to join me. A little company would be nice.