Alpine Trail

June 18, 1983

It started as a slow, soggy solo sojourn. In spite of these negative implications, there were many sights of splendor to make the trip worthwhile: five or six deer just off the road; a fat, gray squirrel scurrying up a tree trunk; an earth brown salamandar hiding in the middle of the trail; regal purple heal-all, thimbleberry blossoms, delicate white iris, ferns already grown taller than I am; some fragrant and ever-lovely Washington lilies and a few ripe wild strawberries—(you can bet they tasted as good as they looked!). It ended as a day when I was glad I had gone out in the rain. Lone in-the-rain trail walker was Mary Fulton.

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