There it was, a sprig of hope amidst the desolation of a landscape littered with broken slabs of concrete, decaying leaves, and rocks. The tiny plant was nurtured by a feeble spot of sun; sometimes that’s all it takes.
Sometimes beauty emerges at the end. This one leaf, among all of the others, is dying early yet outshines its many healthy brethern. This little scene was along the trail in Medina County’s Hubbard Valley Park.
On our way home from shopping the morning of July 3, She suggested we check out a place in the Summit Metro Parks called Furnace Run. We'd seen the sign at its entry but had never stopped to explore the park. As it turned out, it offers two miles of good foot trails and a fine little pond. The pond, of course, is home to turtles, frogs, dragonflies, and at least one big, black snake! We hiked only one of the two loop trails before the heat began to get to us, then headed for home.
We didn't stay all morning in the West Creek Reservation –the trail system is short, unmarked, and being developed– but thought we wanted a bit more hiking. So we headed south to the Hinckley Reservation and one of our favorite hikes — around the lake. Don't get me wrong, we enjoyed that long hike, but add that to the West Creek walk and factor in the day's rapidly building heat and humidity and we'd pretty much had it by the time we got back to the car. In fact, I think I suffered a bit of a relapse of my cold/flu/whatever and felt bad all evening.
Still, in all, it was great visiting new places and old, even on hot days.
The day dawned overcast but soon cleared to an amazing, dazzling intensely blue sky. We spent most of the day around the house: She, cooking, I finishing the publishing project. I ventured outdoors with camera in hand to enjoy the sunlight, shadows, textured snow, and fresh 45-degree (F) air.
Next to the door sits a planter, until recently covered in more than three feet of piled snow. The now-icy white stuff retreated gradually all day exposing a hopeful sign of spring… tiny green shoots poking out of the wet ground and out from under the miniature glacier.
We knew in our hearts those tough little plants would be waking up, even under the deep drifts; after all, they do it every spring. Still, it was good to see on this excellent, sunny day.