The other day, I waxed on about Spring’s arrival to the North Country. Not so fast.

Mountain Man proposed a hike to Scarface, a relatively diminutive peak by Adirondack standards, so I said yes. A nice Spring walk. NOT!

There was an icy “spine” most of the way and I clumped along in snowshoes. It was Spring after-all and i left my micro spikes home. I can only speak of most of the way, because when it became too gnarly by my standards, I turned back and headed away from the hills.

That’s Spring in the Adirondacks.

My walk out provided plenty of time to collect a pocketful of lichen, which had fallen off the trees, and to contemplate rocks.

I may not see dead people but I do see things in rocks.

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