It’s a bright, warm, summery day. At last, I feel well enough to venture out. We drive up to The Palace for a little climbing. The river crossing is still at low winter levels, even with temperatures in the sixties. I’m able to rock-hop across. Cedar creek is blind as usual at the mouth, but a bit higher a trickle of mountain water gurgles down it. A bird call rings through the grotto that sounds unreal, like a science fiction sound effect for time slowing down, or a riff from Electric Ladyland. I wonder if I’ll ever figure out what bird makes that amazing sound.

Neither of us feel at full strength today, but it’s very pleasant to work on a few routes. There are come other groups around, but not many, maybe because it’s St. Patrick’s Day. No place I’d rather spend it.