Image: Girl inside a tent looking out at rain.

What lets you know spring is almost here?

Waking up to sunlight, chirping birdsong, and spring showers often signal spring’s a coming. For me, the first sign is not the green shoots of daffodils, but the green boxes of Thin Mints everywhere you go.           

I joined the Girl Scouts because I wanted to go camping and hiking. Although our family vacations involved staying in state parks, we rented cabins. That’s cheating. So, I had only camped in my best friend’s backyard. Our camp site had the advantage of being about 20 feet from her house. We zipped ourselves into the green canvas two-person tent and talked until we fell asleep. A warm summer night sleeping outside was my idea of heaven. My girlfriend and I felt like genuine campers. However, she didn’t like the whole outdoor experience enough to become a Girl Scout.   

My troop comprised less than a dozen girls who met in the basement of the Christian Church. I had no Daisy or Brownie scouting experience. I must have signed up during cookie-selling time. Poor luck. My selling experience was zilch. I was a shy 11-year-old who didn’t like knocking on strangers’ doors or talking to strangers. I hoped nobody counted on me to break any sales records.  

My Dad volunteered to sell cookies at his office. He sold boxes and boxes of Thin Mints, Shortbread, and Peanut Butter Sandwich cookies — all the flavors. Dad didn’t use high-pressure sales tactics. I’m pretty sure his coworkers bought my cookies because they liked him. After a week, he had filled both sides of the sales sheet. 

Dad had exceeded my goal.

But I didn’t feel like an entrepreneur, nor did I gain lifelong business skills from this scouting experience. My lesson learned was simple: Selling cookies wasn’t as fun as eating cookies.    

Gee, was I surprised when the troop leader unloaded several cases of cookies at our house. Cases. Now the real work began. We sorted boxes. We made deliveries. 

 I delivered the cookies to several neighbors and one stranger. I sold one box to a stranger who lived across the creek (outside our neighborhood). The woman who bought one box never answered her door again. At least for me. I forged the creek with the box and trudged up to her front door. No answer. I tried for more than a week. I got discouraged and worried. What had happened to her?   

Dad bought her box.

After the cookie challenge, the troop leader planned a spring hike. I anticipated the challenge of my first hike. Plus, I would earn a badge.   

I wished I could recall the trail’s name. But hiking conditions were unfavorable—cloudy and cold. Then it poured. Of course, as a Girl Scout, I was prepared with a rain jacket. Relentless rain rolled off the hood of my jacket. The day was long and slow, going up and down the slippery slopes of mud. The trails were treacherous.

This trail followed a ridge with a deep drop off. It was scary. My mind was raced: How much longer? What if I fall? Where is everyone?

One step at a time, I finished without mishap that most miserable hike. My career as a scout was short-lived. I earned a dozen badges or so but I never went on another scout hiking outing. It was many years later before I went camping for the first time. It drizzled, poured, and was one wet muddy mess. After I learned to expect rain, I appreciated the adventure and challenges of camping.  

Musical Notes

        Jazz Soul was a subgenre that intrigued me, and that’s how I found Gregory Porter. I fell in love with “Be Good” and “On My Way to Harlem” on the first listen.

    The new Willy Wonka soundtrack except for “The Oompa Loompa” song was on my playlist every day last week. I recommend “You’ve Never had Chocolate Like This” and a piece of chocolate to cure the blues.

    Soundscape bonus: Poet Billy Collins “Today.”