I’m sitting under a temperate rain forest tree and remembering this year’s Montana Winter. I have always loved moss growing on trees, so sitting by a carpet of moss lifted my spirits. Many of the trees are still bare, but they are almost ready to burst, buds ready to pop their leaves or their flowers. Here, in Oregon, it looks like the blossoms come first, before the leaves. It’s 67 degrees out and if you aren’t in the shade, its hot.
The path we walked yesterday was “muddy”—not Montana muddy, but you did pick up some red clay and dead leaves on the bottom of your shoes. Of course, rain forest...
