This trip was a study in spring: we love to be outdoors more than most people and the March drag of Michigan gray and slush had started to wear on us in a very real way. Reese’s beard was growing longer and my patience was growing shorter – we missed hiking and camping and the warmth of the sun and smelling like dirt and falling into bed exhausted from a day well-spent in God’s great outdoors. And if we’re talking about things we miss, might as well throw in the ocean and warm water and surfing and sun-kissed skin.

But you have to work with what you’ve got where you’re at. So I packed up whatever was going bad in the fridge, Reese loaded the Subaru with sleeping bags and wood and we headed north. Driving back roads and setting up camp and building a fire in the sleet and eating wilting spinach by the flames (note to self: don’t pack a salad when you’re about to sleep in twenty degree temps) was equal parts freezing and worth it.

The first time we saw The Lumineers perform, Jeremiah Fraites sat at the big grand piano and played the song accompanying the below video, letting his fingers dance across the keys till the stage went black and everyone screamed encore. And now we’re in the month of April, it’s supposed to snow this week and my heart is still dancing to this melody: patience. Making the most of where we are and waiting for the outdoor adventures that (could be, must be, have to be) just around the corner.