Alpine meadows at home

It is so deliciously gorgeous outside! Just a touch above freezing, so the snow is rapidly melting, but it's still there in large swaths and patches. Squishy wet, spring snow.

 

 

 

Ed and I are taking a walk along our favorite trail in our local county park. He picks up a handful of snow and allows it to melt in his mouth. Eat some, he tells me. Then remember it when we walk here in the summer. I do. And I will.

I comment that the sunshine against the patches of white snow very much reminds me of my Alpine hikes last week. 

It is like an Alpine meadow here, isn't it... he muses. How lucky we are to have this around the corner.

Indeed.

I feel especially lighthearted because I managed to load and start my new computer (to replace the old ones, including my trusty-no-more travel laptop) by myself. Of course, how hard is it to park your old one near your new one, to punch a few buttons and watch the information flow magically through the air from one to the next.

Technology is like magic these days -- this from Ed again. We're lucky to be living in these times.

There it is again, that word that I surely hear a lot (and embrace wholeheartedly): lucky.

All this after breakfast of course...

I had already been out to look for the chickens who had wandered off somewhere, intoxicated by the sunshine, by the palpable coming of spring.

And while the information was flying from one computer to the next, I baked blueberry muffins. Blueberries! Not Alpine, but still magically available, likely from South America. How incredible is that...

In the afternoon, guess what! It's Snowdrop pick up from school time once more! Mask-less at school, as of last week.

Happy and impishly playful.

As are her brothers.

(Is Sandpiper too young for Swiss chocolate?)

Ravishing moments. Made even better with so much luck...

And love.