Yesterday it was 90-degrees. 90. As in, ninety. As in, freakin’ 90!!!! I’m sorry, but when did the world in all its glory decide that we should just skip right over spring and hit summer? Spring is supposed to be full of wee little lambies frolicking on green hills, baby fawns learning to walk, newborn ducklings following their moms in haphazard lines, pretty flowers blooming, and those happy in-between cool and warm temperatures. But, no. It’s a falsehood.
Well… to those calendar-makers and those “they” (you know, the great magical, mysterious “they” that make all the world decisions?) decision makers; I hate you all. My inner-child dies a little more each season when the childish belief that I will have more than a week or two of “spring-like” temperatures and perfection is crushed like an unwanted insect inside someone’s home. Just… pftttttttttt!
Let’s change the calendars to reflect summer starting at the end of May instead of mid-to-late June, just to help alleviate that false sense of hope and joy I feel when the calendar and the world around me screams “spring!”
Now that my tangent is over, here are some photos from my trip up to Billy Goat Trail in Maryland. Ginger Phil and I introduced two of our friends, Turkey Call and His Love, to the fun to be had going off trail and climbing up boulders and rock formations along the river.
After climbing up and down, up and down, and up… I finally started feeling the overwhelming effects of the heat. It reached 80+℉ by 10am and I was smoked! I’m fairly certain had I not been well hydrated and wearing proper clothing that I would have become that person. You know the one. The one that winds up making a scene out in the wilderness because they were the heat casualty. No bueno. Remember folks: hydrate or die.