It's getting to be warm enough weather that my mind keeps wandering to camping and hiking whenever I walk outside. The hills around us sit lush and green, after our latest spring showers, but in a month or so most of that color will fade to become the dry grass we lovingly call the Golden Hills of California. My husband and I have taken a trip to Yosemite backpacking every fall for the last few years. It's never the same. The landmarks remain, but the place is alive. The details change dramatically from season to season. One year, breaking a trail through heavy underbrush in search of an ancient grinding stone called the"Indian Kitchen" supposedly just yards from our campsite, I came across this perfectly fallen leaf. Fall summed up in a single five fingered oak leaf. Dessicated and frail, beautiful still, bug trails show like lace. The once bright green crisped to a warm color embodying nature itself. Almost time to get out our packs....