Ever since I found myself in Sacramento, every Groundhog Day I feel like a kid again. Every year at this time, I feel like I am getting away with something wonderful and most undeserved, like a kid who somehow got to eat that last piece of pie.
It's the weather! Too bad there's no nice, warm sun left for readers in Canada right now. Nyaa, Nyaa!
I spent most of my first forty years in Chicago and Wisconsin, where the winters are more or less like Toronto's. Groundhog Day was a cruel hoax. We knew we'd still have another six or eight or ten weeks of winter weather no matter what some plump rodent did on his annual outing.
Now Groundhog day marks the start of Spring. We take a hike in the Sierra Nevada foothills every to celebrate Groundhog Day. This year we hiked in the American River Canyon near a couple of bridges..
Some pictures from this year's Groundhog Day walk, sure to make a freezing Canadian audience jealous;
The Foresthill bridge was built as the first step in constructing the Auburn Dam. Turns out the dam will never be built on this seismically unstable land. Great deal for hikers, because the State now owns this entire canyon.
Our walk started and ended near the Mountain Quarries Railroad Bridge. This bridge was the world's longest concrete railroad bridge when it was built in 1910.
We walked from the confluence of the canyon's rivers to the rangers' station near the canyon's rim. The warm sun glimmered off the river's surface below us.
I Hope you enjoyed the photos. I'll keep on playing outside and feeling like a kid while you enjoy huddling near the radiator and watching old TV reruns on Netflix.
Here is a round-up of all the other great entries:
"There are places I remember all my life though some have changed, Some forever, not for better- some have gone and some remain."
Yesterday as I sat in a hospital for the second day in a row I suddenly felt the need to feel like a kid all over again. My life does not seem to consist of happy memories, but more of doctors, sadness, and death. Yesterday I swore to myself I would never do this again, but if push came to shove of course I would. How could I not?...
Timmy is my imaginary son. He came to life as most of my imaginary friends and family do, I drank too much Shasta grape soda back in 1984 at a friend's house while we played Carl's Atari 2600.
"My mom says you're a corrupter!" Carl says, handing me the bottle. I took a sip and nodded.
"I am!" and we continued to play.
Soon, Timmy's in the door way, appeared out of the nothingness which is the air...
Thanks to everyone who participated and stay tuned for next week's theme!