“Spring” being a loose interpretation of this cold, windy day, and “determined” being likewise a loosely defined word involving me cracking the whip, we pressed on down and up all the stone steps of Glen Helen. It was so cold, all the wildflowers were closed and cowering, although a few brave souls were open. A huge blue heron was just standing around in the creek, not exactly basking, probably half-frozen, but photogenic nonetheless. If you look closely at the creek photo, you’ll spot him (sorry, no zoom lens). A few hardy, friendly fellow hikers, mostly old hippies of the area, stopped to talk nature and reminisce about back in the day. I was excited to recognize many early spring native wildflowers I’ve been studying up on. (My new Newcomb’s Wildflower Guide from GH gift shop will help with that.) The falls and yellow springs were really gushing ice-water.
We survived our chilly adventure, and headed over to Yellow Springs to do a little hippie shopping, and eventually adjourned to our HQ, the Tavern, where I had a Warped Wing (Dayton) Corliss Cali Common (nice, with a lovely dark amber color) and for dessert a pleasant dry blackberry pear cider, which conjured up a shady rocking chair porch on a southern summer day (which this definitely wasn’t). And there you have a typical day in the life of poor retirees making the most of our temporary detainment in Ohio.