A yellow bell, with its distinctive drooping flower, in bloom beside a patch of sagebrush near Phillips Reservoir on April 30, 2023.

I had almost made the annual transition from winter to summer wardrobe when the weather, which is rarely as fickle as it can be during the spring, threw another tantrum.

Just as I was getting used to donning shorts and slathering on sunscreen, another storm — one of those upper level low pressure systems that meteorologists dissect with their computer models — slunk into Northeastern Oregon.

The sweatpants emerged from their drawer before they had acquired even a patina of dust.

I shivered on my afternoon walk, the brisk north breeze an unpleasant remnant of March, and wished for my fleece-lined mittens and stocking cap.

But all that is past.

We continue to careen between extremes, with another period of hot, dry weather upon us.

A fine time to get outside for any purpose.

Reveling in the burgeoning display of wildflowers, for instance.

During the previous summerlike interlude at the end of April, my wife, Lisa, and I went for a hike on the south shore of Phillips Reservoir southwest of Baker City.

The Shoreline Trail was not very near the shore, to be sure.

But it’s been getting closer ever since.

In the two weeks since our visit on April 30, the reservoir, depleted by more than two years of drought, has risen rapidly and steadily, to nearly half full.

This might be the first year since 2019 when it’s possible to actually hear the rustle of the waves while walking the Forest Service trail that meanders through ponderosa pine forests and meadows.

It was the meadows I was particularly interested in seeing.

And as I hoped, the flowers had responded to the warm sunshine, making their belated appearance in this chilly spring.

Most of the bellwether species were accounted for — pale pink grass widows, buttercups and yellow bells the most common.

The trail was still a bit squishy in places, and there were even a couple patches of grainy spring snow in the sheltered coves.

But the temperature

was in the 70s and the inimitable scent of sun-warmed ponderosa bark heavy on the air, an aroma redolent of summer.

The ground was moist and soft underfoot, that brief compromise between mud and dust, when it feels almost as though the earth is giving you a gentle boost with each stride.

The high mountains are still snowbound, of course.

I suspect the alpine wildflower show in the Wallowas and Elkhorns and northern Blues will continue well into August.

But at lower elevations the colorful display is prime.

A couple days after our

hike I drove to Ontario and noticed that the arrowleaf

balsamroot is festooning south-facing slopes with

yellow.

I didn’t see its frequent companion, the purple lupine, but I’m sure it’s blooming in many places now, such as the Mount Emily Recreation Area, in Hells Canyon and along the lower Grande Ronde and Imnaha.