Spring break isn't a real spring break without a trip out of town. This year, it was a brief weekend trek to Yosemite. Yes, I did drag my faithful laptop with me though it never got any use since I could get wireless only in odd locations here and there on the valley floor. I had no desire to tromp around in freezing rain at night with my laptop to find those locations.
Didn't miss my cell phone much either which had absolutely no reception anywhere. That was fine with me as well.
I did discover, to my dismay, that the hiking/camping gene, both present in me and the husband, skipped a generation with our child. After one moment at the majestic Ahwahnee Hotel, the kid wouldn't go anywhere else. No hiking, no strolls, nothing. It was too cold and too wet and boring. No need to venture out of the room except to run around with the other kids on the Easter egg hunt on the Ahwahnee lawns and to eat in the magnificent dining room.
For me, when I'm in Yosemite, I feel I'm home. And as soon as I leave the valley, I begin missing Yosemite with a strange twisted feeling in my heart. It's a feeling of loss, that it'll be too long before I can come home again.
This year, there was still snow on the sides of the valley walls, highlighting the wet black walls of stone rising around us. Wisps of clouds were trapped in the trees and crevasses of the rocks up above. The waterfalls were full. Since it rained every day, we missed seeing the valley lit silver by the full moon at night. That's okay. There were plenty of other vistas to fill up on.