We've been eagerly awaiting temperatures falling below 327-degrees here in Central Texas so that we can, once again, go outside. If you wanna know the reciprical of Minnesota winter, well, it's pretty close to Texas summer. I feel equally homebound, cabin-fevered, and stranded here in late July as I do back home in mid-January.
Today, we meandered through the Balcones Canyonlands National Wildlife Refuge. Big fancy name, yes, but it's free to enter and just a little blip of trail on the rolling hills radar. The hike smelled piney-fresh as the crumbly limestone trail leads through a charming coved corridor of live oak, cypress, and juniper trees. And all this with a perfect cloudless azure backdrop.
Beautiful days in Texas (and there are quite a few now for many, many months) assist me in not falling into the yearning-for-midwestern-comforts trap, to which I sometimes fall prey.
If only all of Texas were like Austin and Hill Country. You know, I actually have fond memories of Texas summers. I remember feeling like I was walking out of a refrigerator and into a nice, hot oven whenever I walked outside. At 16 I enjoyed that sensation. It's a dry heat. :)
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