Where does all that snow go?

This morning I did my weekly presentation of artworks in our oldest's school classroom - the program goes for about six weeks each spring. To get from the university to the elementary school, I hike a beautiful trail (about 3 miles round-trip) each time I present. On today's hike, I was excited to see water blasting through the creek, so I decided the kids needed to experience where all of our melting snow goes.

This afternoon my three oldest and I started up a section of the trail. We picked up fallen white pine cones, looked at ice formations at the water's edge and raised our voices to hear each other over the roar of the cascading runoff. There was so much to see that I missed watching my son fall into a shallow pool. He received a first-hand lesson in the poor insulative qualities of cotton pants (jeans) but was soon warmed by blankets back at the van (no need for me to scold).

Despite the abrupt ending to our jaunt, we all had a great time experiencing the much-anticipated change of seasons in our nearby urban wilderness.

Once or twice a semester it's become a tradition for Anna and the kids to come for lunch at the burger place on campus. Typically everyone orders chicken strips and fries. We sit on bar stools at the counter where we talk and watch college students come and go on the city buses. I imagine it's quite a spectacle for the college students to see a large family of young children take over their regular hang out. On this last time out, the young man who took our order was really interested in the kids and provided extra help and attention. The kids are doing well out in public and look forward to "going to Dad's school for lunch."