Spring has Sprung

Spring has sprung . . . at least for today and we enjoyed it. First thing after breakfast, Bryant and I took the 4-wheeler and the dogs (yes I did mean plural dogs as we are babysitting Jonathon's dog this weekend) for a run in the Knik River gravel bar. Early in the spring, the water doesn't run very high, so we can take the trail from our backyard, cross the road, and enter the gravel bar on the river. Our goal was to wear Jonathon's dog, Bobo, out so he won't be AWOL all day long. I hadn't been on the river bar at all this spring and while I was out there, I was once again taken by the interesting geography, a receding glacier 17 miles away, sharp jagged mountains, and a couple of buttes sticking out of the flat river bottom. On this particular day, at that particular moment, I really didn't think there was a cooler place to be. About 45 minutes later and two tired canines, we made our way back to the house to start on the chores for the day.

Earlier this year, we took down our fence to fell a few dead trees. We had been patiently waiting for the ground to unfreeze to put the fence back together, but the combination of a nice day and a dog sitting position, the fence became chore number one. With the resistant help of two young boys, I figured I could manage the job, and that freed Bryant to do his job of . . . you guessed it . . . fixing the boat. As the day progressed, I managed to get the fence back together, Gus dropped off at his friend's house, and the new grill burner put on. The day was still beautiful, so I decided to drag Wyatt off the couch to join me on another river run with the 4-wheeler. I had forgotten my camera earlier and wanted to snap a few pictures. Reluctantly, Wyatt put down his book, complained, and then joined me by the 4-wheeler. I thought I had secured the dogs before my departure; Ollie inside, Bobo inside the fence, but I wasn't far down the trail before Bobo joined us. It obviously didn't take him long to find the weak link in my fence, and that the sound of the 4-wheeler meant excitement.

I didn't bother sending him back and we continued down the trail. I had intended to take the same trail on the river bed that Bryant and I did earlier, but instead found myself drawn a little more upstream toward the glacier. When we hit a side small side channel in the river, Wyatt asked to get off the 4-wheeler. I watched him wade around in his boots and explore the little nooks and crannies in the river. I checked the bottom of the river for soft spots and seeing none, determined that I could cross. Wyatt got back on the 4-wheeler and we continued. Before long, another channel stopped us. Wyatt pointed out yet another channel close to the river bank that had a lot of ice. He wanted to play on it. It didn't take long for me to get drawn into the game of test, test, stomp, and crack the ice. Shallow water and the big logs in the middle of the water provided safe landings, so we could continue this little game of ice destruction. Wyatt remarked, "now this is what Moms and sons should be doing." Something in his tone indicated that stomping ice was much, much, more interesting than listening to lectures on how to get along with the neighborhood kids, which he'd been hearing a lot of lately or holding the end of the board while I fix the fence. I didn't think it was the right time to remind him that I did have to drag him off the couch grumbling. Instead, I let him bask in his glory that good parenting really is only about stomping on ice in the Knik River gravel bar on a sunny day in April.