I’m inclined to start this post with an apology, though to be honest I’m not quite sure who I’m apologizing to. I know many of my friends and loved ones read this little blog, mostly to keep up with me and the places I go – but as a form of entertainment too, I guess. And so my first thought is to apologize for not updating in so long. But then I think to myself that I’m not really important enough to actually be sorry for this. Don’t worry single reader, I’m not digging for compliments here. I know people enjoy my writing. I’m just not quite at the level that anyone is waiting with baited breath for my blog posts.

So then what am I sorry for? Why do I want to start this post with an apology?

I guess I’m sorry for myself, mostly, because I enjoy writing and enjoy the little feedbacks I get from this blog. It makes me feel connected to many who so often feel very far away. It’s easy to fall into a routine of laziness. And it’s because of that same lazy routine that I haven’t had many inspiring experiences to write about lately. I find that those huge moments of discovery not only spur me to write about them, but also awaken me to the small treasures of this world. I write more when I’m making efforts to seek out new things. In my quest for the big adventures, I find myself much more receptive to the smaller ones.

This doesn’t mean I’m not happy. It doesn’t mean I’m not having the time of my life. I just haven’t experienced a lot of new lately. And it is the new that more often than not inspires me to the point of writing. It’s now my third season out west (can you believe it??) and there’s little about my days on the job that surprise me anymore. I love it, and I do continue to be moved by it – but it takes major emotion to spur me to write. And I guess I haven’t felt that lately.

Now I can’t go blaming this on a 3^rd season at Canyonlands. Because there is still a lot in this area I have to explore. I guess I could blame it on the weather. Late winter and early spring is a chilly, wet, windy season up here on the Island, and I’m not exactly the hardiest when it comes to these things. Give me 100 degrees any day over weather that might make me shiver. It unnerves me.

I could also blame it on my boyfriend. His season hasn’t started yet and so he remains in Colorado, and I’ve spent several weekends traveling to a familiar halfway point to spend time with him instead of in pursuit of local joys.

Lastly I could blame it on my health. I’ve been under doctor’s orders to abstain from unnecessary physical activity to quicken my recovery from tendonitis. I have new insoles that are just about broken in and line my body up the way it’s supposed to be rather than the way my very flat feet would prefer. I still feel a little bit of pain, but more than anything I feel weak. I have been working out all winter, but it’s not the same as being on the trail every day. The tired muscles and winded lungs discourage me more often then I’d like to admit.

But A moves back Saturday and the weather is warming up. There’s only one way to get back in shape and my little desert flowers are beginning to bloom. They are beckoning me to come and find them.

It’s time to play.